


try to be civil

by that_one_urchin



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Rivalry, Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:33:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27829756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/that_one_urchin/pseuds/that_one_urchin
Summary: To add on, the other team’s captain was messing with her. Each time the Stallions got a touchdown the brunette would shoot a wink at Hope or flash one of those irritating smirks in Hope’s direction. Something itches underneath her skin with every teasing gesture, driving Hope close to madness.-Hope and Josie football rivalry AU.
Relationships: Hope Mikaelson/Josie Saltzman
Comments: 152
Kudos: 708





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ik ik, I have too many AUs

They’re going to _fucking_ lose.

The Salvatore Boarding School is ahead of them, leading by three touchdowns versus Mystic Falls measly score of zero.

Hope is positively fuming. As team captain of the Timberwolves, it’s her job to keep them in check. Every opportunity they have been given to catch the ball or score a point has been fumbled within seconds, her teammates sloppy back-to-school playing ruining their chances. This summer has made them slower, weaker, and less sharp than before. Hope can tell half of her players haven’t been practicing over the break.

To add on, the other team’s captain was messing with her. Each time the Stallions got a touchdown the brunette would shoot a wink at Hope or flash one of those irritating smirks in Hope’s direction. Something itches underneath her skin with every teasing gesture, driving Hope close to madness.

Hope is _done_.

“Can anyone explain why you’re all playing like spineless children?” She asks, her jaw twitching. None of her teammates respond and only a few of them raise their heads to make eye contact. “If we lose to those snobby rich kids, we might as well just quit now.”

Penelope scoffs, coming close to an eye roll. “Is that your best attempt at an inspiring speech?”

“No. Catch the football or I’ll cram it down your throat, Park.” Hope claps her hands together and marches back onto the middle of the field without another word. There. Inspiring.

She normally wouldn’t be so... _upfront_ about their playing, but scoring no touchdowns at all is more than embarrassing. It’s mortifying. Humiliating.

Hope looks up and, despite the sunlight blocking her vision, catches her father’s eye. She freezes, blood thickening to ice at the disappointed look on his face. No. Not disappointed— _angry_. Hope swallows a lump in her throat and forces herself to face the field again. The opposing team is in position, wearing smug smiles. In the distance, Hope can see their captain— _that brunette_ —out on the grass, crouched down, with her hand up and—

— _and fucking waving at Hope_.

Oh, it’s on.

“Hut!”

Maya snaps the ball to her and she immediately catches it, backing up with it cradling her hands while Ethan goes long. Hope searches for the patch of red and black in the distance, winding up her arm once she spots him and throwing it.

It goes soaring through the air, getting closer and closer to Ethan until…

“Yes!” Hope subtly pumps her fist in the air and high-fives Maya as Ethan makes the touchdown. “Finally!”

“Guess your speech worked.” Maya remarks and Hope rolls her eyes, a tired grin against her lips.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the other team beginning to gather around something. At first, she mistakes it for just another huddle, but then Hope notices the absence of the brunette. She realizes they’re gathered around _someone_ , not something.

_Is she okay?_

Hope shoves down that thought as quickly as it rises. She shouldn’t care, that girl is a stranger. A stranger who has been fucking with Hope all day. She shouldn’t care. She doesn’t.

The referee starts to blow his whistle, making a symbol with his hands that means injured.

Hope thinks she’s been staring too long, so she glances back at Penelope and Maya. They don’t seem to be as interested in all of this as Hope.

“Mikaelson!” The ref suddenly points at her. Hope frowns, taken aback. “Get over here!”

Is she in trouble? She didn’t do anything. Shit, if anyone deserves to be punished it’s that girl for unsportsmanlike conduct. Sure, she was only smiling and waving, but Hope _knows_ how these things work. People try to throw her off her game by playing nice and—

“Mikaelson! Move! Your! Ass!”

Hope ignores the snickering and quiet protests she hears while walking over there. She sees Penelope hiding a laugh behind her hand and resists the urge to flip her off.

“Yes?” Hope asks, once she’s there, slightly annoyed.

The brunette is sitting on the field, clutching her ankle in her hands. She’s pretty up close, that’s something Hope can’t deny. Her face is flushed pink from exertion, a light color that Hope can’t help but admire. Her soft features are highlighted by the ponytail she’s wearing, dark strands pulled back and held together by a blue and yellow hair tie.

When Hope looks at her, at this stranger, all she wants to do is _paint_. It’s unnerving. Hope glances away and makes sure not to be caught ogling her again.

“Take her to the nurse’s office.” The ref orders. “You’re going to have to carry her.”

A loud wave of protests comes from both teams.

The referee holds up his hands to silence them all. “If the Stallions lose their captain, then so do the Timberwolves.”

“I don’t need to be carried.” The girl grumbles under her breath, sounding almost embarrassed.

The two respective teams reluctantly break apart and return back to the field without their captains. Hope gets a glimpse of her teammates playing badly and bites the inside of her cheek, deciding she needs to join them as soon as possible. She kneels down next to the brunette and is met with defiant eyes and a stubborn pout.

“You are _not_ picking me up.” The blush on her cheeks grows visibly. “I can walk just fine.”

Oh? Is this embarrassing her?

Seems like the right time for revenge.

“No.” Hope smirks, feeling petty. “You’re injured.”

“ _Fine_.”

With narrowed eyes, the brunette lifts her arms into the air to allow Hope to pick her up. Hope does so carefully, and in the process catches a glimpse of the last name printed across the back of the girl’s jersey. Saltzman. How strange. Hope maneuvers around to get _Saltzman_ situated on her back, carrying her piggyback style.

Saltzman huffs. “If you drop me, I swear to God, I will—“

“I won’t.” Hope promises. She means it.

Hope walks a bit faster, accidentally jostling the girl on her back. She hears a yelp from behind her (feels it, too, in the warm puff of breath that crawls up the nape of her neck), and feels two arms tighten around her shoulders. Hope tries not to laugh.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the name from ‘trash talk’ to ‘try to be civil’ in case anyone was wondering

“Come lay her down here.” The nurse instructs, ushering them further into her office and towards a small cot in the corner.

Hope sets Saltzman down where she’s told and backs off enough for the nurse to do her job. She lingers far behind, wanting to leave and rejoin the game but feeling obligated to stay. She hesitates for a moment, but ultimately decides it would be impolite to scurry off so soon.

“Is it broken?” Saltzman asks, while the nurse flips her ankle over in her hands. “Can I play?”

The nurse shakes her head. “No. Unfortunately, miss…”

“Oh! Saltzman. Josie Saltzman.”

_Josie_ , Hope thinks, cementing the name in her memory.

“Miss Saltzman, you won’t be able to continue today, but it’s just a sprain. If you stay off it for a bit, you’ll be fine later.”

Good.

Hope may not particularly like Josie, but at least now she won’t feel like a bad person for wanting to leave.

“Can I go now?” Hope is already inching towards the door. She can still hear sounds of the game from outside, the roar of the crowd. “My team needs me.”

“Not yet.” The nurse replies. Hope’s hopeful look drops. “Why don’t you stay with your friend here. I’m going to get ice.”

_My friend? Fat chance._

“Thank you.” Josie murmurs as the nurse goes.

Hope rolls her eyes. She tries to hold her tongue, but she can’t help but blurt, “kiss-ass.”

Josie lifts her head, looking mildly affronted and unsure if Hope even said anything to her at all. Her eyes harden a second later, clearly offended, as she rubs her sore ankle.

“What?”

“ _Nothing_.”

Neither of them say a word for the next couple minutes, both of them pretending the other does not exist.

Hope crosses her arms and leans on a nearby wall for support. Her muscles ache mildly from playing, but she still can’t manage to keep them still. She taps her foot restlessly throughout the minutes, growing more and more anxious with every passing second. Hope has the horrible thought that her team is out there, losing worse than before without her.

She hears the crowd cheering outside and can’t tell if it’s for her team or the other. Her foot starts to move more rapidly, the audible tapping sound filling the room. _Tap, tap, tap, tap…_

“You should calm down.” Josie says, her voice a little sharper than it needs to be. “I’m sure your team can _lose_ without you.”

“We are not going to lose.” Hope protests, but she’s doubtful, and it shows in her tone.

The hint of insecurity slips through her voice like water, and she loathes it, hates to feel it buzzing right beneath her skin. Hope clears her throat to try and force it away. She steps forward on tired legs, straightening up to appear more confident in her response. Josie is the one sitting on the lowered cot, and yet somehow Hope still feels tiny.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Hope says, through an air of nonchalance. She comes closer and silently notes how Josie tilts her head up just a smidge to make eye contact. “We’re the best players in town. We won ninety-nine percent of our games last year. No one even talks about your team.”

Josie shrugs. “Maybe we’ll be that one percent this year.”

It annoys Hope how unaffected Josie seems.

“I doubt it.”

Josie opens her mouth, probably to irritate Hope further, but snaps it shut when the nurse returns with a small, plastic bag of ice. Josie accepts the bag and holds it against her ankle, all animosity from before suddenly gone. In the presence of an adult, she appears to be an innocent angel. Even her eyes have gotten softer, gentle brown and as wide as a Disney character’s.

Hope thinks that Josie could pass for a princess, but pushes that thought far out of her mind since it sounds too close to a compliment.

“You can go back outside now.” The nurse tells them. Finally. “Don’t put weight on that ankle. I think it’d be best if your friend helps you walk.”

Damn it.

Hope’s cheeks involuntarily warm at the idea of picking Josie up again. It’s weird to carry people that she doesn’t know and it doesn’t help that her palms are sweaty. She couldn’t take a step last time without accidentally sliding her hands too far up Josie’s legs.

“Thanks.” Josie repeats, to the nurse, and turns to look at Hope with disdain.

Reluctantly, Hope offers up her arm instead of going for the piggyback ride like before. She is not carrying Josie around again. Instead, Hope helps her stand up and props her arm around Josie’s waist while they leave.

“Shit.” Hope mutters under breath, as soon as they get back out on the field.

The sight that greets them is pure _chaos_.

Everyone is fighting. The teams are a mess of limbs and anger, blue and yellow, red and black.

Hope spots her teammate, Sebastian Hayes, on top of a scrawnier, dark-skinned boy. Sebastian easily pins him down with his knees and gloats openly about it, loud enough that Hope can hear his jeers from here. The other boy, to his credit, continues to try and throw punches, swinging wildly at the air.

Penelope charges at an unsuspecting boy with curly hair, who falls over ridiculously easily as she tackles him. He squirms around cluelessly, appearing no more dangerous than a worm.

“Stop it!” The referee blows his whistle furiously, to no avail. “Stop! That’s _enough!”_

It’s not enough. They continue to fight without a pause, the Timberwolves crushing the Stallions. Hope wonders where all this energy was when they were actually playing. To her left, she sees Maya fighting with some other girl. Maya shoves the blonde to the ground and wrestles her onto her front, pushing her face down into the mud. The blonde squeals angrily and pounds her fists against the field, as if close to a tantrum. Hope snickers, but her laughter is abruptly cut off by a pinch to the side.

“Ow! What the hell?”

“It’s not funny.” Josie seethes, as if Hope laughed at _her_ and not some random blonde girl.

Hope smirks. “It’s pretty funny.”

“How would you like it if someone did that to you?” Josie says it as a threat, her offense made very clear. Hope scowls and slips out from under Josie’s arm to avoid starting (or, more so, joining) a fight.

Despite her annoyance and the growing belief that Josie Saltzman is the most irritating person on the planet, Hope finds she has no real desire to harm her. She chooses to back away instead. She doesn’t apologize. The thought never even crosses her mind. Hope steps out of reach and smirks as she sees Josie wobble, nearly losing her balance and falling over without Hope there to support her.

“What are you going to do?” Hope teases, taking advantage of the distance between them. “Limp towards me? Oh, I’m _so_ scared.”

Josie scowls, probably realizing that she won’t be able to chase after Hope, and having too much dignity to try hopping. She hesitates for a second before holding up her middle finger with a smile that nearly makes Hope start laughing again.

Instead, Hope leaves Josie to hop the rest of the way alone. Why should she care what happens to someone on the opposing team? They’re the _enemy_.

“Stop it! All of you!” The referee bellows. The fight is coming to a swift end.

A few parents are on the field and have taken up the task of prying the teenagers apart. Some of them have split up on their own, the presence of their families setting them straight.

Hope’s dad is not on the field. She isn’t shocked. She thinks of him, getting up at some point while she was gone and never coming back. Hope just wishes that he is waiting for her in the parking lot this time and didn’t leave her to walk home alone again. Another, bigger part of her wishes that he actually did leave her, and she won’t have to take the verbal lashing later or endure his icy silence.

She rids the thought from her brain as she gets closer to her team, forcing a careless grin.

“Everyone sit down!” The referee has clearly lost his shit. He points wildly down at the field and flails his arms when no one listens. Hope decides to sit. Immediately, several others from her team plant themselves down near her.

“Who won the game?” Hope asks.

The ref still seems pissed off. “Five people were injured!”

“...who won?”

“No one.” He informs her, frustrated. She frowns in confusion while a few others groan. “It’s a tie. Since none of you could behave today, all record of this match is nullified. We’ll have a re-match at a later date. And I’ve advised your teachers that it would be a _perfect_ idea for you all to do some community service. Now, get off of _my_ field!”

A few angry murmurs of protest come from them all, but no one actually speaks up, so they do as they’re told. The teams chat in low voices. Hope notices some of them continuing to nudge each other out of spite. She also notices Josie limping over to the blonde girl and helping clean the mud off of her. Hope tries not to let her gaze linger as she picks up her belongings from the sidelines.

Ethan and Maya suddenly flank her. They both breathe laboriously, probably tired from the fight.

“Can you believe that guy?” Maya questions. She has grass in her hair. Hope plucks it out for her. “Thanks.”

“Yeah.” Ethan agrees and puffs out his stomach to do a bad imitation of the referee. “ _Get off of my field!_ What an ass. The Stallions had it coming.”

Hope nods in agreement and glances off, seeing Josie amongst the crowd. “They’re definitely not what I expected. We need to focus. I’m sure we can crush them in the next match, if Penelope learns how to catch a ball.”

“Hey! Fuck you.” Penelope thumps Hope on the head in passing and immediately gets scolded by her mother for her foul language.

Hope laughs along with Ethan and Maya, but says goodbye to her friends as they get further off the field. They part at the edge of the grass. She walks to the parking lot alone. Her family’s car is parked in one of the spots nearby. Hope stares at the sleek, black vehicle for a moment longer than she needs to before going towards it, slower than before.

It suddenly feels harder to move. Hope thinks of herself as the tin man in the Wizard of Oz, who needed oil in order to move properly. The thought briefly sends her back to her childhood, to late night watchings of the movie with Aunt Freya.

Hope loads her water bottle and duffle bag into the trunk, along with her ‘too dirty to be inside the car’ shoes, and swaps those items for a jacket. She silently slips into the passenger seat.

Klaus doesn’t look at her when he starts the car. He doesn’t look at her as they drive out of the lot and into the street, either.

Hope’s tongue itches with the need to hear him say something, _anything_ , even if it’s bad.

“So…” She starts uneasily. Her dad’s never much fun when she doesn’t win. While today wasn’t a loss, she knows they wouldn’t have won if the game went on without a fight. “We get to have a rematch.”

Silence.

Klaus’ upper lip twitches, but otherwise his face stays indifferent. “Yes, you do.”

It doesn’t feel like enough. Why won’t he even glance at her? They didn’t play _that_ badly. She knows the outcome could’ve been far worse.

“I know we could have done things better—“

“You could have done things better?” He throws her words back in her face, singling her out from the rest of the team by disregarding the ‘we’. “I would think that someone who spent _all summer_ practicing would be able to lead a team without embarrassing themselves. Congratulations, you proved me wrong.”

Hope snaps her mouth shut. She looks out the window, watching the passing scenery. Maybe this is her fault. She shouldn’t have brought up anything in the first place. Hope blinks to clear her blurring vision and curls her hands to fists under the safety of her jacket.

Neither of them say anything for the remaining duration of the drive.

When they get home, Hope gets out of the car and enters the house without waiting for Klaus. She passes her mother on the way to her room.

“Hey.” Hayley greets. “How’d the game go?”

“ _Fine_.” She bites out through clenched teeth and continues to climb the stairs, not sparing another glance at her mom.

Hope spends the rest of the day in her bedroom. She has no desire to speak to anyone or even go out to grab dinner. She does her homework and studies for an upcoming test before trekking out to the backyard, picking up a football on the way. Her father’s words weigh heavily on her as she practices, holding her down like a ton of bricks. She works tirelessly on her aim, throwing the ball at a target for hours, until it’s dark and the word _embarrassment_ no longer lingers in her mind. It’s late in the night when she finally takes a shower and climbs into bed, smelling of sandalwood.

She drifts off to sleep, thinking of the game and all that occurred. The near-loss, the touchdown Ethan managed to make, the fire of anger and spite in dark brown eyes— _Josie, Josie, Josie._

***

Two days pass before it’s announced that both teams, the Timberwolves and the Stallions, will have to venture out to town during the weekend for community service.

In that short time, Hope continues her routine of practicing. She continues to think of Josie’s smirk and how she’s going to wipe it off her face.

***

Hope enters the bus on Saturday with absolutely no enthusiasm. She spots all her friends easily: Maya, Penelope, Jed, Ethan, and Sebastian. It takes all of her energy just to wave at them. She plops down in the seat beside Jed.

“Hey.” Maya greets as Hope sits down. Penelope nods at her and Jed bumps her shoulder with his own while the others mumble greetings.

Sebastian peers around the seat to get a good look at her. He has coffee. Bitch. “You look like shit, dude.”

“Thanks, _dude_.” Hope rolls her eyes and shoves her palm in his face to get him to sit back down. “You really know how to treat a girl. Five stars all around.”

He laughs and hands her the coffee.

She sips it. “Better.”

Sebastian lets her have the other half of the cup (she may or may not lean away every time he tries to take it back from her), so she drains it all while they drive into town. The bus, which they usually only use for games, is filled by everyone on the football team. Hope can see a few of them still have bruises or scratch marks from the fight.

The ride to town is short, since Mystic Falls is pretty small overall.

She isn’t surprised that they get there before the other team. The Salvatore Boarding School is up on a hill or something, secluded and kept away from the rest of the town. Those snobs probably barely know what to do when put outside of their fancy gates. They have to wait around for them, standing in the hot sun for what feels like years.

Eventually, they do show up. The first one to get out of their bus is a middle-aged man with a beard.

Not Josie.

Not that Hope is looking for her. She isn’t. Hope just thinks it would be a good call to make sure that she can see the girl in her peripheral, in case Josie gets any bad ideas about attacking her or something.

The middle-aged man claps his hands together and approaches them like he’s their friend. “Hey guys! I’m Dr. Saltzman. It’s nice to meet you all.”

Hope’s football coach, Mr. Lockwood, hangs by with a sandwich he brought and stays quiet.

Hope rolls her eyes at both men.

The blonde girl from before, the one who got her face shoved into the dirt, exits the bus. She has on overalls and a disgusted expression that she points openly at Mr. Saltzman. “Dad, do we really have to be here? It’s like a thousand degrees.”

Dad? Hmm.

“Yes, Lizzie.” Mr. Saltzman frowns.

Hope glances back at the bus, seeing people continue to exit. She looks, once, twice, three times, and—

“Dad.” Josie begins, speaking to Mr. Saltzman. How many people are in this family? “Did you remember to bring bug spray? I don’t want to get bit by anything.”

She pouts.

(Hope chooses to pretend it’s not cute.)

“Um… no.” Mr. Saltzman replies.

Lizzie shakes her head. “Can’t even trust the man with bug spray. People these days…”

“Come on guys, cheer up. This is an opportunity to help out your community.” Mr. Saltzman does some sort of lame gesture to try and excite them. No one responds positively. Many of them groan.

“This is _so_ lame.” Lizzie mutters under her breath (everyone hears her anyways).

Hope just wants to leave.

It takes her a minute to realize that Lizzie and Josie are sisters. That explains why Josie got so mad a couple days ago, because Hope blatantly laughed at her sibling.

Mr. Saltzman begins to give out assignments. “Okay, so, we’ll be mixing teams. I want Lizzie, Sebastian, Penelope, and Maya to clean up graffiti. Rafael, Landon, and Jed, you guys are picking up trash to the north. Hope and Josie, you two will pick up trash to the south. MG and Kaleb will help wash the buses. Go team, go!”

Everyone groans.

He sighs. “At least try to be civil.”

Slowly but surely, they break apart and go to their assigned chores with their partners. Absolutely no one is happy to be here, but some of them still seem to be somewhat hostile to each other. This might not be the best idea, if the goal is to forgive and forget.

Still, Hope isn’t going to argue. She trudges over to the pack of trash bags Mr. Saltzman brought and grabs one, along with a pointed stick to stab garbage with, and heads south beside Josie.

It’s a quiet day.

The weather is colder than before, although the sun is shining brightly. Josie is wearing a yellow sweater to accommodate for the temperature, and she has her hair pulled up into space buns. She looks a bit tired, and very bored.

They lapse into a stilted, awkward silence. Hope finds it unbearable for some reason and tries to converse with her.

“Hey, so, mud girl is your sister?” Hope asks. She stabs a crushed soda can and drops it in the bag.

“ _Lizzie_ , yes.” Josie responds sharply, sounding a little hostile, but also suspicious of Hope. “She’s my twin.”

Twin?

“You look nothing alike.” Hope points out.

Josie stops and looks at Hope like she’s a total idiot. “We’re fraternal, genius.”

Hope’s face burns red.

Oh.

Slightly embarrassed, Hope starts to grab trash that is farther away from Josie. Her blush stays for longer than she would like to admit. It sucks. It’s only been a few minutes and Hope already feels annoyance itching under her skin, begging to be expressed. She has the urge to march over to Josie and insult her right back. Mr. Saltzman had said to be civil.

_Be civil my ass_.

Hope turns around and starts walking towards Josie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come rant to me on Twitter if you wish: @thatoneurchin


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m going to try and update on Saturdays (hopefully)

Around an hour later, Hope is thoroughly coated in a thin layer of sweat and smells faintly of trash. Community service sucks ass.

Fuck the community. Hope would much rather be at home right now, snuggled under her sheets or in the backyard, working rigorously on her form. Anything but here, dealing with garbage. She is honestly surprised by all the things people leave around here. Empty soda cans, plastic grocery bags, random bits of paper, mud-soaked candy wrappers, etc. She’s pretty sure she saw a used condom somewhere and that will forever haunt her nightmares. Come on, it’s a park. It’s _public_.

Why are people so disgusting?

She can’t believe she got put on trash duty. Other people, like Sebastian, Penelope, and Maya are just washing off graffiti and splashing each other with soapy water. It looks fun. Better than this, anyways.

Hope grumbles audibly under her breath as she stabs a forgotten juice box off the ground. It leaks juice, dark purple and sticky, onto her boot. Hope scowls at the box like it personally attacked her.

“Do you know when we’re done?” She asks Josie in passing. Josie shrugs.

“No.”

Damn it. Hope just wants to go home. She hasn’t thought of anything other than getting a break in a good while. Well. That’s not totally true. Hope has thought of Josie, only because Josie is really all there is to think about when choosing between the scorching sun and piles of trash. She glances at Josie one too many times, watching her quietly fuss over her collection of garbage, and is caught staring.

“You know, it’s hard to concentrate with you over there, lurking.” Josie points out and huffs while dragging her bag around. It looks to be getting a bit heavy. They should empty them soon.

Hope decides to ignore her word choice. _Lurking_. She wasn’t lurking, she was just doing her job.

“Concentrate?” She scoffs. “On _trash_?”

“Yes.”

“Well, sorry.” Hope bites out sarcastically, going in the other direction. She can’t deal with Josie right now. The girl is nothing but a thorn in her side.

Hope wanders off as far as she can without going out of bounds, which is apparently not very far at all. Mr. Saltzman gives her a disapproving look and ushers her back in Josie’s direction, as if he thinks Hope is going to sprint away and ditch her or something. Whatever. Hope wouldn’t do that.

She returns to her trash. The sun is blindingly hot and it isn’t helping with the horrid smell. Ugh.

Hope wanders up to the oak tree in the middle of the park and props herself against it. The bark is cold and almost refreshing on her skin. It’s not as nice as a fan or a bottle of water, but it’s a hell of a lot better than the constant sunlight. She rests her forehead against the wood, feeling her warm skin cool. The heat that had been building under her skin dissipates and she is able to catch her breath.

Comforted by the shade of the tree, Hope grabs the hem of her shirt and lifts it up to her forehead. She lazily wipes the sweat off of her face.

When her shirt drops, she is surprised to notice that Josie is closer than before and now glaring at her openly. Hope tries to make eye contact, but Josie’s eyes are cloudy, like fog, and it takes a second for her to realize Hope is staring back.

Josie’s lips snap down in a shadow of a frown and she immediately looks away, her cheeks flushed dark red with what Hope assumes to be anger.

“Hey, what crawled up your ass this morning, Saltzman?” She calls out to Josie.

“You!” Josie exclaims, unexpectedly loudly. Hope sees her almost accidentally stab her own foot. What kind of idiot does that? Josie quiets down, muttering furiously in a low tone, “I mean _your team._ If you guys hadn’t started a fight, we would have won. None of us would have to be here.”

Hope presses her lips closed tight, feeling her mouth curl into a sneer. She wishes Josie would shut up about the game. It’s in the past and she doesn’t want to think of it ever again.

She’s embarrassed, to say the least. Now that she thinks about it, her father had been right to reprimand her. How could she have let them get so close to losing? How could she have let herself get so distracted by Josie’s teasing that she failed to lead the team?

Josie is just some girl. A practical stranger. Hope has been mocked by other players before. It’s a part of the game, messing with your opponents. She’s used to it. She can’t wrap her head around how Josie is able to get on her nerves so easily.

Before Hope can think of a retort, Josie returns to her task. Josie mutters angry whispers under her breath that Hope’s ears struggle to understand.

“Whatever.” Josie grumbles, mostly to herself. “I don’t even like football.”

“What?”

Why would someone become captain of a team when they don’t even like football? Maybe Hope heard her wrong.

“Oh my god!” Josie yelps, dropping her bag in surprise.

At first, Hope thinks that she’s just being dramatic about a bug or something, but Josie appears to be mildly horrified. It peaks Hope’s interest. She rounds the tree to see what Josie is seeing and responds in a similar manner.

“Oh, _ew_.”

Sebastian has abandoned his graffiti washing station to run off with the blonde, Josie’s sister. They are barely concealing themselves behind another tree, making out enthusiastically. Hope wants to gag at the intimate display—PDA really isn’t her thing, even with Roman she mostly kept him at arm’s length. Sebastian paws at Lizzie’s hips, holding her against the bark. Hope sees a slip of tongue and decides she would like to be blind for the rest of the day.

The couple must notice them looking, because they stop and head in Hope and Josie’s direction.

Well. Now, Hope feels like a lurker.

“Lizzie!” Josie scolds her sister as soon as she’s close enough. “We’re supposed to be working, not kissing strangers.”

Sebastian grins cheekily at the situation. His hair is mused, sticking up in all directions, and he has a broad swipe of red lipstick smeared across his throat.

Lizzie shrugs, brushing it off. “Community service is way more fun with make out breaks. You should try it, sis.”

She sends a pointed look Hope’s way.

Hope feels her body heat in embarrassment. She awkwardly stares at the ground and crosses her arms over her chest. Is she suggesting that Hope and Josie should…?

“That’s disgusting!” Josie makes loud gagging noises, pointing down her throat for emphasis. “I would rather be lit on fire!”

Hope sputters. “Well, I would rather drown!”

Josie turns to face her, eyes sparking with heat and annoyance. The competitive part of Hope is thrilled by it.

“I would rather pull my own teeth out!”

“I would rather swallow cockroaches!”

“I would rather _die_.”

Hope, at a loss and severely lacking any ideas for another comeback, swings her trash bag at Josie before the other girl can get too smug. It thumps against Josie’s side, the contents of it sludging around grossly, but doing no real harm.

Josie gasps and picks up her own bag. She swings it violently at Hope, hitting her in the hip. Hope immediately retaliates.

Lizzie rolls her eyes. “This is so immature.”

“I’m entertained.” Sebastian shrugs, seeming pretty content with standing there silently, like an attractive brick.

Hope jumps backwards to avoid Josie’s blows, waving her fully-loaded trash bag around with abandon. She forgets her reputation, giving into dumb, childish antics. Josie’s grip slips on her bag for one, brief second, but that is all it takes for Hope to take the opportunity. She slams it against Josie’s torso and the bag rips, cut by a sharp object inside of it. The discarded contents tumble out with all the speed of an avalanche, slipping down Josie’s sweater and landing on the ground.

She hadn’t meant to do that. Hope stands still for a moment, feeling something, maybe guilt, and then snickers. She clamps a hand over her lips to try and muffle the sound.

“You bitch!” Josie exclaims in shock.

Hope holds up her hands, the reminiscents of her laughter still there. “You started it.”

“No, actually, I didn’t!”

Josie drags her hands down her sweater, wiping off as much of the muck and grime that she can. It doesn’t matter. Hope is pretty sure it will stain.

“I can’t believe you.” Josie continues, biting out her words through clenched teeth and soft lips. “All day you’ve been _unbearable_. God forbid you have to do some charity, god forbid you have to do a bit of work or even lift a finger. You’re still just pissed about the game. You know you were going to lose!”

Hope seethes, a vicious emotion bubbling up at the mention of the game. “Don’t talk to me about work. You’re just some privileged rich girl. I’d be shocked if you’d ever done a day of work in your life.”

“You know _nothing_ about me!”

“I know enough!” Hope takes a step closer. Josie doesn’t back off either. “Everyone at your school is—“

A harsh, sharp sound cuts Hope off.

Mr. Lockwood is blowing his whistle, as if they’re on the field. He heads towards them. Sebastian and Lizzie hurriedly return to their stations.

“What are you two doing?” Mr. Lockwood lets his whistle fall out of his mouth.

Hope crosses her arms over her body and looks away, refusing to say anything. Josie does the same. She holds her tongue, her jaw shaking, shooting daggers at Hope.

Eventually, Mr. Lockwood sighs.

“Fine. I’ll let this slide, if you guys pick up all of the shit you spilled.” He points down at the items on the ground. “And, _you_ , you need something to wear. Hope, give the girl your jacket.”

Hope frowns, shaking her head. “Coach, it’s my letterman. I can’t just give it away.”

“ _Now_ , Mikaelson.”

With obvious reluctance, Hope strips her jacket off of her arms. She knows she’ll have to run laps at practice if she doesn’t do as he says. Damn it. She hesitates before holding it out to Josie. Mr. Lockwood, satisfied, leaves them be. As soon as he’s gone, Josie sticks her tongue out at Hope.

Ugh. She’s a _child_.

“Don’t put it on over that nasty sweater. You’ll get it dirty.” Hope berates her. “And don’t stain it. Don’t spill anything on it, especially soda or any dairy products because it—“

“Shut up.” Josie cuts her off, quite rudely. Hope scowls. “I have my own. I know the rules.”

Hope almost forgot that Josie is also a varsity captain. She feels a bit more at ease giving it to someone who presumably knows how to care for it, but her biggest fear is that Josie will disregard all reason and purposely stain it. Hope _did_ just ruin her sweater, after all.

Josie holds the letterman jacket out in front of her, as if figuring out if she should deem it worthy.

See? Snob.

“It’s a little small. Just how tiny are you?” Josie raises her eyebrows, inspecting Hope.

“None of your business.” Hope snaps. “If it’s too small, you don’t have to wear it.”

Hope tries to take it back, but Josie steps out of reach and smirks coyly at Hope. She’s _enjoying_ this. Hope simmers in her silent anger while she watches Josie turn the jacket over multiple times in her hands, taking forever. Eventually, Josie shrugs, as if to say: _this will do_.

Josie looks left and right curiously, and Hope has no idea what she’s doing until she _does_.

Fast as lightning, Josie lifts the dirty sweater off her body and tosses it at Hope. Hope manages to catch it, despite her surprise, and holds it at arms-length. Her eyes drift to Josie’s exposed torso, accidentally catching a glimpse of her flat stomach and pale pink bra. Hope looks away, her pupils dilated and her mouth strangely dry.

“We’re in _public_.” Hope chokes out, hating how rough her voice sounds.

Josie is buttoning up the jacket. “Calm down. It was only for a second. How does it look?”

The bulky fabric actually suits her well, despite it being two sizes too small. The Mystic Falls High colors, red and black, bring more attention to the striking darkness of Josie’s eyes. The sight of it sends a flush of warmth through Hope’s body. She forces herself to look away, taken aback by how her body is reacting, but for a moment she feels almost… _happy_ about the change in outfits.

Hope swallows. “You look like a jacket stealer.”

Not her best comeback, but oh well. They were just in an argument. They’re _still_ in an argument. Hope forces herself to remember that and walks stiffly away from Josie, in search of an unripped bag to use.

***

Josie wears the jacket for the rest of the day.

A couple of guys on the team draw attention to it, pointing it out during their lunch break, but Hope is mostly able to forget about it, despite some of the teasing. She gets through the last few hours by staying very quiet and distancing herself from Josie. She still remembers what Josie said to her during their argument. Her annoyance about it lingers, leaving a bad taste in her mouth all day.

By the time they’re done, Hope is definitely ready to leave and has sweated through her undershirt.

It’s gross.

She would be warmer with the jacket on, but at least her jacket added some style to her clothing. Now, she just looks like a sad gardener. It’s not a good look for her. Before everyone can get back to their respective buses, Hope marches up to Josie and taps her shoulder.

Josie sighs, as if talking to Hope is such a chore, and spins around to face her. “Yes?”

“I want my jacket back.”

“I can’t take it off now, then I’d be shirtless.” Josie explains.

Hope gives her a blank look. She doesn’t care about that. All she cares about is getting her belongings back and never seeing Josie again.

Josie nibbles her bottom lip in thought, burying her hands in the pockets of the jacket. Hope is sure that she only does it to irritate Hope more.

”I can give it to you at the rematch.” She suggests, but Hope refuses.

”No, that’ll take too long.”

”Fine. Give me your phone.” Josie holds out her hand expectantly. Hope shakes her head. Who does she think she is?

“What? No.”

Rolling her eyes, Josie steps forward, into Hope’s personal space. She carefully slips her hand into Hope’s pocket and plucks the phone out of it. Hope, stunned, allows it to happen. If she lowers her gaze an inch or two, she can the curve of Josie’s collarbone and the thin line of her bra strap, mostly hidden by the jacket.

”Here.” Josie murmurs, typing something. Hope should really get a password. “Just text me when you want it back.”

Josie places the device in Hope’s hand. When Hope gets her phone back, she sees the contact Josie put for herself: **#1 team captain.**

Hope will have to change that.

She tucks her phone away and turns around without another word, heading towards the bus.

“It was nice talking to you too!” Josie yells after her, sarcasm evident in her tone. Hope gets on the bus frowning. Sebastian sits next to her and spreads his long legs out, bumping his knee with hers.

“What was that about?” He asks. “I haven’t seen you go at it with anyone like that since Ro—“

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Hope cuts him off seriously.

Sebastian raises his hands in surrender. “Sorry.”

Hope doesn’t mean to be a bitch. She knows that he means no harm, she just isn’t in the mood to talk about herself right now.

“What about you?” She counters, wondering exactly how he ended up making out with Lizzie. “You seemed to be pretty interested in that girl, by the looks of it.”

Sebastian gets a far away look in his eye, faint color rising on his skin. He releases a breathy sigh. “Elizabeth is… _ravishing_.”

Oh. Barf.

Hope smiles thinly at his weird, lovesick words and decides not to question it further. Their bus driver starts the engine, the vehicle rumbling low, and they begin to drive away from the park. She feels as if she has escaped from hell itself. Hope stares out the window and watches the other bus retreat into the distance, a dull blur of yellow and blue.

Good riddance.


	4. Chapter 4

While sorting through the frozen food aisle at the grocery store, Hope allows her mind to drift. She thinks of art, how she hasn’t gotten a chance to paint in a long while. There is an art store down the street—it sells simple things, colored pencils and cheap canvases—and Hope thinks that she could stop by later. She just needs to break away from her parents for a bit.

Hope grabs broccoli out of the assortment of cold vegetables and puts the bag in the shopping cart. She backs up, accidentally bumping into another person behind her.

“Sorry.” She apologizes.

The person laughs, velvet and familiar, and Hope instantly freezes.

“Roman?”

He stands in front of her, wet curls slicked back and darkened to a deep brown. His clothes look damp, spotted with water in several places, and a blue Salvatore Boarding School towel hangs limply around his shoulders.

“Hey, Hope.” Roman smiles goodnaturedly. “How are you?”

“Oh, uh. Good.” Hope tries not to stammer. She forgets to ask him about himself. She didn’t think she would see him here or ever.

He steps closer with his arms outstretched and pulls her into a stiff hug, his chest hard against her cheek. Hope accepts the embrace, feeling rather awkward and uncomfortable.

Roman lets her go, but continues to stand a little too close for comfort. “Wow. Long time no see.”

“Yeah…” She trails off, clutching her vegetables and wishing to be swallowed whole by the floor.

“Uh.” He clears his throat, wiping his hands on his jeans. Hope wonders if his palms are still wet from swim practice or if he feels uncomfortable, too, and his hands are sweating. “I’ve got to go. It was nice seeing you, though.”

“Yeah. See you.”

Hope watches him go and only exhales once she sees him turn a corner. Fuck. Can she not even go grocery shopping without running into exes?

Seeing Roman again stirs up an unpleasant mix of emotions in her gut that she’d rather avoid. It still unsettles her to look at him. She stands there for a moment before shaking it off and leaving to search for her family. Hope finds her parents by the meat section, debating over chicken or steak for tonight’s dinner.

“My vote’s for steak.” Hope adds, as she saddles up next to her mom.

Hayley nods, agreeing. “See? It’s the superior choice.”

Klaus rolls his eyes and mutters something under his breath that sounds like _traitors_ , but loads the packaged steak into the shopping cart. Together, they move through the aisles, checking items off of their grocery list as they go. Once they get to the checkout line, Hope considers the possibility of stopping by the art shop again and asks her father about it.

“Hey, Dad.” She taps his forearm. “Is it okay if I drop by that art store down the street?”

“Sure.” He agrees easily.

Hope steps out of line. “I’ll be back in a few.”

She leaves the grocery store and walks down the street on her own, feeling a sense of mild ease at being able to view art again. A bell chimes above her head as she passes through the doorway, an inviting sound. Hope locates an aisle with various kinds of paints soon enough. She lightly traces a hand over them, brushing blues, reds, and golds with her fingertips. It feels… safe. All these colors clear Hope’s mind, offering up some clarity.

It’s peaceful. Hope plucks a coloring book off the shelf. She doesn’t intend to buy it, but it reminds her of her childhood, and it’s fun enough to look at that she sits down at a table with it. She brings a pencil with her, just in case she feels the need to draw.

As she flips through the pages, Hope feels more than sees someone else’s presence nearby her.

A harsh scraping noise sounds from across from her, the chair dragging sharply against the wood. Hope lifts her eyes from the coloring book. Josie Saltzman plops down in the seat in front of Hope, bundled up in a clean sweater.

Fuck.

Why can’t she catch a break? All Hope wants is to be left alone for a bit, but no one will leave her alone. Is this a curse? Is it some form of karma?

Hope chooses to pretend she doesn’t see Josie, despite making direct eye contact with her for a solid second. She pretends she doesn’t notice the light gleam of lip gloss swept across pillowy, pink lips. She ignores Josie completely. Instead, Hope chooses to doodle in the book, keeping her legs tucked close to her body all the while. If she moves an inch, her feet could collide with Josie’s.

That lasts for all of two minutes.

“Do you need something?” Hope asks, snapping her head up to meet Josie’s prying eyes.

“No.” Josie answers simply.

“You know, I know what you’re doing.” Hope says and continues to draw, forming mindless shapes on one of the pages. “You’re not as good at it as you think you are.”

Josie arches a single eyebrow questioningly and gestures for Hope to elaborate.

“You’re trying to sike me out. I’m not an idiot, I know how these mind games go. And, for the record, they’re not working.”

“Oh?” Josie doesn’t seem nearly as affected as Hope thought she would be.

It’s not working. It’s _not_. Whatever games Josie is playing—doing all of that teasing shit at their last game, somehow finding Hope here today—won’t work. They are going to win the rematch, even if Josie tries to mock Hope to death beforehand.

“It’s pointless, anyways.” Hope scribbles furiously against the paper. “I don’t know how your team would even win a game when their captain can’t last an hour without breaking her ankle.”

“It was a _sprain_.” A hint of annoyance cracks into her tone, the first glimpse at Josie’s crumbling composure.

Hope waves her hand, feigning nonchalance, but inside she is pleased at finally getting a reaction out of Josie. She fixes her expression into one of indifference, focusing more on her drawing—she traces over a curve repeatedly, shaping a pair of pouty lips without thought.

“Maybe you’re just a little too…” Hope searches for the words to make Josie tick. “ _Delicate_ , for football.”

She recognizes the moment Josie’s composure slips—it’s right as Hope’s mouth forms over the word _delicate_ —and the anger flashes obviously across her face. A heated flush climbs up Josie’s skin as it happens and Hope has to force herself to ignore how attractive it looks. She’ll take that secret to her grave.

“I’m not delicate.” Josie hisses, leaning in an inch or two closer. Hope does the same, just wanting to win. “Just because I don’t attack people with trash like a crazed animal, doesn’t mean I’m helpless.”

Hope would respond, but her phone is buzzing. Her parents are texting her. She sends them a message back, telling them she’ll join them in a minute.

She stands up. “I’ve got to go. Bye, princess.”

Josie bristles at the nickname, her tongue darting out to swipe across her lower lip.

It’s the type of soft, delicate nickname that Hope somehow knows will piss Josie off. She’s happy to see it has the desired effect—Josie’s irises nearly darken to black, appearing angered (and, honestly, a little embarrassed) at being belittled openly. The last glimpse of Josie that Hope sees before she turns is her mouth, screwed up into this irritated pout.

_Her mouth._

Secretly, Hope hides behind a shelf and cracks open the coloring book. She peers down at her drawing in the margins—rounded shapes and softened curves, lips that so clearly belong to Josie. Fuck. _Fuck_. What’s wrong with her? She snaps the book shut forcefully.

She’ll have to buy it.

***

Hope stands under the hot spray of the school’s shower, watching as soapy suds slip off her wet skin. The metallic clang of lockers rings distantly around her, the rest of the team already having showered since Hope stayed behind to do extra training at practice. She turns the water off and wraps a towel around her body before stepping out of the stall.

She dries off and dresses quickly and quietly in the locker room, only half-listening to what Maya and Penelope are bickering about. Once Hope has her underwear on, she leans up on her tippy toes to reach the back of her locker and grab her ring. Hope slips it onto her middle finger, twisting the silver band into place.

“This town is way too small.” Maya grumbles, a common complaint among Mystic Falls kids. She drapes herself leisurely over the bench. “I want to go somewhere cool, like Los Angeles or New York City.”

“Damn right.” Penelope agrees, words coming out slightly muffled as she pulls on a shirt.

“I ran into Roman the other day.” Hope chimes in. “ _And_ Josie. She’s been trying to get under my skin. Sike me out. I guess it’s cause the Stallions know they’re going to lose.”

A light chuckle comes from all the other girls that are listening. Hope tries to share in their laughter, but her enjoyment is damp and fleeting.

“Who’s Josie?” Maya asks.

“That Salvatore girl Hope threw trash on.”

“Hey.” Hope protests, tugging a pair of jeans up her legs. “I didn’t just _throw_ trash on her. It was a fight. She started it.”

(She didn’t.)

Penelope shrugs. “Whatever. Does she still have your jacket? Couldn’t imagine a Stallion would want to wear MFHS colors for too long.”

Hope glances at her friends, only now observing that they all have their letterman jackets on and she is still dressed in just her shirt. She frowns. Yes, Josie does _still_ have her jacket.

Wendy Howards, a senior and a year older than all of them, steps forward to share her opinion. She _always_ shares her opinion, as the oldest one on the team.

“None of that Timberwolves versus Stallions shit matters once you’re older.” Wendy tells them, but Hope is already distracted by her phone. “Dumb high school rivalries mean nothing in college.”

Hope blocks the sound of her voice out.

She peers down at her phone, reading the name that Josie put as her contact: **#1 team captain.**

Hope doesn’t waste any time before deleting that particular contact name, but her fingers and mind slow when it comes to changing it. She thinks of the obvious, the name Josie—too soft, too sweet, too beautiful—but disregards it. Princess? Maybe that could work (she thinks of the burning ferocity in Josie’s gaze as soon as Hope brought up that nickname) if it weren’t for the fact that it makes it sound as if Josie is her girlfriend. And Hope does _not_ want that. Ever.

After much deliberation, she types in _Saltzman_ , because it reminds her of middle-aged, bearded, fat Mr. Saltzman and not young, bright-eyed, cute Josie Saltzman. Now Hope won’t have to picture her every time she so much as sends a text.

There. Done.

Except, not done, because there’s still the matter of sending an actual message.

Should she say hello first? Is that necessary? It’s not like Hope wants to come across as rude… or maybe she does? Fuck it. Why is she stressing about this so much?

**Hope [4:13pm]:**  
I want my jacket back.

Okay, _there_. Done.

“Hopey.” Maya calls. She snaps her fingers to get Hope’s attention. “Are you coming?”

“Yeah.” Hope shuts her locker and tucks her phone away.

They go out into the empty hall together, meeting up with the boys in the parking lot. Sebastian is pretty engrossed in his phone and Jed barely lifts his head as they approach, looking downtrodden. Ethan is the only one to greet them.

“Hey, guys!” He says eagerly, waving his hand much like a golden retriever waves its tail. “What’s up?”

“Not much.”

Jed nods at Hope stiffly. His face is marked by a nasty, purple bruise—a product of the fight at the game. Hope can tell he got his ass kicked. Ethan is all pep, barely noticing how Jed nearly growls at him for hugging his shoulders.

Ethan continues to ramble on. “Did you hear about Kaleb’s party this weekend? It’s going to be a rager. His parents aren’t home.”

“Doesn’t Kaleb have new friends, now? I thought he’d stop inviting us to things after the transfer.” Maya comments, causing Ethan’s smile to fall.

“Well, actually, Sebastian’s girl invited him.” He clarifies, glancing at a still-texting Sebastian. “And Seb invited us, so… we can go.”

“I don’t want to go to some Salvatore party, man.” Jed mutters bitterly.

Ethan rolls his eyes. “It’s not a Salvatore party. There are going to be other people there.”

Hope kicks at the gravel with her feet, not really listening. She wants to go to the party—wants the chance to unwind, even if some of the other teams are going to be there—but she needs to practice over the weekend. Besides, if Lizzie is going then Josie is probably going, too, and that would be… bad. It would be bad.

She doesn’t want to talk to Josie. Doesn’t even want to see her.

“Eh, I’ve got to practice.” Hope backs away as she sees her mom’s car drive up. “Have a good time without me, though.”

The others, except for Jed, make hand motions to indicate that she should just go to the party, anyways. They say things, too, but Hope can’t hear them since she’s already sitting in the car. She mouths sorry at them through the window.

“What’s that about?” Hayley asks Hope, turning the wheel and steering them away from school.

“Nothing.” She shrugs. “Just some party they want me to go to.”

“Why aren’t you going?”

“I’m taking a stance against teen binge-drinking.” Hope replies, completely deadpan, and her mom gives her a dry look. “Kidding. I thought I’d stay home and throw around the ball a bit.”

Hayley sighs, smiling, but it comes across as a bit sad and wistful. “You’re a lot like your father was in high school.”

Isn’t that a good thing?

“He had like one friend—this guy, Stefan—who he talked to and no one else.” Hayley continues. Hope listens intently, drinking up any details she can get. Her dad is a lot of things, but open isn’t one of them—he rarely ever tells Hope about his childhood. “And, well, he talked to me. Barely. It took a lot to get him out of his shell, Klaus always wanted to be off playing football. Back then, I always used to wish he would loosen up and have more fun. Be less… intense, you know?”

Hope knows, but she wouldn’t necessarily say that being intense is a bad thing. She doesn’t think that _any_ of those details are bad things. All she’s hearing is hard work and dedication.

“You should go.” Hayley suggests, finally.

“Maybe.” Hope says noncommittally, just as her phone vibrates in her pocket. Her stomach jolts. Is that Josie? “I’ll consider it.”

**Josie [4:31pm]:**  
sure

**Josie [4:31pm]:**  
when? where?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think :)


	5. Chapter 5

“You should come. It’ll be fun.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“C’mon, Jo.” Lizzie presses, moving across their room and kicking Josie’s leg in the process. Josie groans, laying on the carpet since both of their beds are covered in maybe-piles of party clothes. “It’s just a party. We haven’t gone to one since summer.”

“That was, like, a couple weeks ago.” She points out unenthusiastically.

Lizzie huffs. “It feels like it’s been years.”

Josie watches her sister whirl around their room, sorting pretty much all of her clothing into piles. Lizzie’s quest to find the right outfit has become a little disastrous. Clothes are strewn everywhere with no sense of organization at all. Josie has her suspicions about why Lizzie is trying so hard for this (Sebastian), but she doesn’t voice them.

It’s not like Josie doesn’t want to go to the party. She does. She does, but she has a reputation to uphold as team captain and getting trashed in front of everyone doesn’t fit into that. Plus, she’s tired. Why isn’t saying no ever enough?

“You probably shouldn’t even be going.” Josie has to dart her eyes around to keep up with her sister’s wild pacing. “There’s a test Monday. You know if we lose our scholarship we’ll be—“

“I know. Trust me, I know.” Lizzie mutters. “Dad won’t let me forget.”

A breath.

Lizzie changes course to kneel down beside her, capturing Josie’s hands in her own and giving a tight squeeze. She smells like fancy perfume. It must be that new one she bought yesterday.

“No offense, Jo, because I say this with complete and total love, but…” Lizzie trails off, glancing to the side, uncertain. Josie frowns. “The rest of the team is beginning to think you’re a bit of a prude. You almost never stay out at the Old Mill for team bonding time—“

“—because it’s just drinking and Truth or Dare—“

“—and we miss you. You don’t have to stay late or anything, it’s just nice to have you around… oh and, also, I need a wingwoman so _please_.” Lizzie tacks on that last part with a hopeful, cheesy smile.

Whatever defiance that had been nestling in Josie’s chest disappears. She gives in.

“Fine.”

“Yes!” Lizzie is on her feet again. “Come help me pick a lipstick.”

They start with Lizzie first. It’s honestly a bit of a chore to piece through Lizzie’s extensive set of clothes while she’s being so picky, but they get it done. The more and more time they spend doing this—sorting through different shoes, giggling at makeup like they’re twelve, having _fun_ —the more Josie thinks she made the right decision to go.

“Do you think I should go with blue or pink?”

“Blue!”

Josie pads over to her closet, half-listening to the quiet sounds of Lizzie moving around frantically in the bathroom. She must _really_ like Sebastian.

He better not be an asshole. Based on what she has seen so far from the Timberwolves—from Hope—the chances of Sebastian turning out to be a douchebag are high.

Sighing, Josie sorts through her closet, pushing aside thin crop tops and sweaters for a jacket. It’s probably chilly out and she gets cold easily. She brushes her fingers over her small collection of coats, trying to guess if any of them would fit well with her outfit. There is one jacket in particular that comes to mind.

Would it be wrong to…?

Josie plucks Hope’s jacket out of the closet. The red and black colors stand out against the rest of her closet—which is mostly lighter colors, sweet pinks and vibrant yellows—calling out to her the way a siren calls a sailor to sea. Josie curiously runs her hands over the insides of it, finding that there is a name scribbled on the jacket’s collar. _Hope Mikaelson._ She slips it on without another thought.

“Interesting choice, sis.” Lizzie comments, bent over so she can toe on her heels. “Timberwolf colors?”

“I have to give it back, anyways.” That’s not a lie. Technically. She thinks Hope will be at this party, but she isn’t entirely sure.

(And it would be fun, wouldn’t it? To see Hope’s lip curl in a scowl again when Josie arrives in her clothing? To see pale skin fume blazing red? Yes, it would be fun.)

“Alright, whatever you say. Come on, I’m sure MG is waiting.” Lizzie grabs her room key and they go.

MG _is_ waiting.

His mom got him a new car for his seventeenth birthday—a shiny, dark green Porsche—which he is waiting for them in, outside. He gets out of it to hold open the doors for both of them, and soon enough they’re driving off of school premises to Kaleb’s parent’s place.

It isn’t long before Lizzie and MG start to engage in some nerdy conversation Josie can’t follow.

“All I’m saying is, Into the Spider-Verse changed the game.” MG taps his hands against the wheel for emphasis. “Just listen to the soundtrack.”

Lizzie checks her lipstick in the sun visor mirror. She snaps it shut. “Okay, but Tom Holland was the perfect Spider-Man. Andrew Garfield was too cool, Tobey Maguire looked constipated half the time. Plus, Tom’s movies have Zendaya.”

Josie decides to check out right around there.

She pulls out her phone and scrolls mindlessly through it for a moment, before her thumb drifts to her texts and she clicks on her messages with Hope. Hope hasn’t responded in hours.

Josie texts her again.

**Josie [10:16pm]:**  
guess i’ll keep it forever

The reply is instantaneous.

**Hope [10:16pm]:**  
No. Don’t you dare.

A pause.

Josie sees Hope start to type, stop typing, and then start to type again.

**Hope [10:17pm]:**  
Are you going to Kaleb Hawkins’ party?

**Josie [10:17pm]:**  
ya

**Hope [10:18pm]:**  
See you there, jacket stealer.

**Josie [10:18pm]:**  
it’s a date

**Hope [10:18pm]:**  
In your dreams.

**Josie [10:18pm]:**  
in my nightmares

Content with her ability to annoy Hope through text, Josie turns off her phone and stares out the window. She watches the trees pass for the rest of the drive.

They arrive at the party right once everything is getting into full swing.

Kaleb welcomes them with hugs for the girls and an intricate handshake for MG. He shows them around the house a little bit—it looks exactly like your standard suburban home, except Kaleb has clearly decked it out with some dark lighting, a few speakers, and a shit ton of alcohol—but then leaves them be in the kitchen.

“This is great.” MG tongues out the contents of a green Jell-O shot. “You should do a keg stand.”

Josie rolls her eyes. “I just got here.”

Sebastian shows up, appearing out of the dark like a vampire or something, and grabs hold of Lizzie’s hips. He whispers something in her ear that makes her giggle.

“See you guys later!” Lizzie calls, as he whisks her away.

Josie watches her go, unsure if she should be okay with Sebastian or not. On one hand, Lizzie seems to be genuinely happy, but on the other, he didn’t even stop to introduce himself or say hello. It’s hard to decide. She turns back to MG.

He now has a quiet, sad demeanor about him, his excitement all worn out. Josie squeezes his shoulder comfortingly.

“Line up some shots.” Josie suggests and MG brightens instantly.

“Your wish is my command, m’lady.”

MG gets to work collecting enough shot glasses to form a sizable line. He does so pretty quickly, filling the glasses to the grim and giving Josie a nod once he’s done. They go down the line—he stops to cough and sputter after the third shot, but Josie feels relatively fine—and bump arms once they’re done.

“That was a horrible idea.” Josie grumbles, her throat stinging. “I have to study tomorrow.”

“I think it was a great idea.” He raises up a hand for a high-five. Josie reluctantly slaps his palm. MG puts an arm around her to guide her out of the kitchen. “Let’s go find the rest of the team.”

For the next hour or so, Josie alternates between dancing with Kaleb and MG in the living room and chatting with Landon and Rafael outside. It’s nice to be surrounded by her friends—although there is no sign of Lizzie anywhere—but soon she gets sort of tired and wanders off to go find a drink.

Josie picks something less harsh than shots this time, going for a bottle of beer and sipping it.

She’s alone for maybe three seconds.

“Beer is fucking disgusting.” Hope pops up next to her, already complaining. Josie is momentarily surprised by her sudden presence, but masks it well.

Josie glances at Hope. “You’re drinking cake flavored vodka. What are you, a frat boy?”

Hope frowns, shifting the bottle in her hands. She has a nice set of rings on her fingers—silver and gold—the type that shine beautifully against pale skin. Josie forces her eyes up. Hope tilts her head back as she drinks, licking her lips after she swallows that gross choice of alcohol.

What does cake flavored vodka taste like?

What would it feel like if Josie were to steal the taste from Hope’s mouth? Sharp? _Sweet?_ Fuck.

Josie takes another sip, just to clear her head. It doesn’t exactly work the way she wants it to.

“What’s next?” She continues—just can’t resist goading Hope on. “Keg stands? Hazing? Beer pong?”

She _tries_ to poke Hope’s shoulder.

Key word: tries.

Josie ends up with her hand brushing closer to Hope’s jaw instead, tracing the curve of it. Hope feels tense. And warm. Is she always like this?

“No.” Hope frowns. “That’s not classy.”

“You don’t seem like the classy type, anyways.”

“There you go again with the snob thing.” Hope brushes Josie’s hand aside. Her cheeks could be a little flushed, but it’s probably just a trick of the light. “I’m surprised that you even left your ivory tower, Princess.”

Where did she get the assumption that Josie is rich? Josie has never understood that.

Loud whoops and yells come from another room and a few guys stumble into the kitchen, trying to drag Hope away. Josie only recognizes a couple of them from their first game against Mystic Falls High. One of them, a boy with slicked-back, dirty brown hair, manages to partially pick Hope up.

“Beer pong! Beer pong! Beer pong!” They chant.

Josie barely hides a giggle. This is exactly what she was talking about. _No class_. Hope meets her eye, frowning for a second, before she is pulled away by her friends.

***

After a lot of searching, Josie finds Sebastian and Lizzie talking closely by the keg outside.

Since she knows her sister is safe, Josie decides to sit and enjoy the fresh air for a while. She finds an empty spot on the porch and claims it. There’s less people outside than inside. The only ones out here are the ones talking or playing beer pong.

Beer pong.

Hope.

Without reason, Josie scans the small crowd in search of the football captain and finds her at a table with her friends, balancing a ping pong ball in her hands. She’s smiling. It’s weird to see. All Josie has ever gotten from Hope is scowls and frowns. How can she just smile like that? So free, so careless, so—

“Hey.” A girl stands above her, two cups in hand. “I’m Jade. Do you want a drink?”

Josie doesn’t normally accept drinks she hasn’t seen someone pour, but Jade looks harmless. She nods, accepting the cup, and isn’t surprised when Jade sits down next to her.

“I’m Josie.” She likes how she doesn’t have to yell to be heard, as opposed to inside where the music is ear-shattering.

Jade smiles. “That’s a nice name.”

A cold gust of wind blows over them. Josie tugs the jacket tightly against her body, shivering.

“Don’t worry, I’m not hitting on you or anything. You’re dating one of the Timberwolves, right?” Jade asks. Josie just stares at her blankly.

Why would Jade think that?

After a second, Jade, chuckling, pokes the edge of the jacket with her finger.

“Oh! _Oh_.” Josie blushes, feeling stupid. “This is Hope’s.”

Jade raises her eyebrows at that. “You’re dating Hope Mikaelson?”

For some reason, that sentence makes Josie feel impossibly warm. She allows the jacket slip off of her shoulders an inch to let her skin cool.

“You know her?” Josie asks, instead of saying no. She should say no, because she definitely isn’t dating Hope. Who would want to be Hope Mikaelson’s girlfriend?

“Yeah. Yeah, um.” Jade glances towards the beer pong table once and scoots in closer to Josie, as if she has a secret to tell. “She used to date my older brother, Roman Sienna. It was a bit of a nasty break-up, but Hope’s a nice girl.”

_A nice girl?_ Josie thinks, wanting to scoff. _Hope? No way._

She opens her mouth, the words, what happened living and dying on her lips. Josie feels the ghost of them crawl down her throat as she looks up and accidentally catches Hope’s eye. There are yards of space and multiple people separating them, but Josie knows Hope is looking right at her. Something crackles and pops in her chest like fire and she looks away so sharply it almost gives her whiplash.

Josie stares down at the green of the grass, but all she can think is _blue, blue blue._

Fine.

She’ll let Hope tell her what happened, even if that means she’ll never know.

“I’m going to use the bathroom.” Josie says and stands up, leaving Jade behind. Leaving Hope behind.

Josie locates the nearest bathroom and shuts herself up in it. As soon as she closes the door, the music becomes muffled and easier to deal with hearing. Her ears continue to throb harshly while her heart follows a similar pattern, beating restlessly against her chest. Shit. She needs to calm down. Why does looking at Hope make her feel that way? Like she’ll never get the chance to breathe again?

“OW! FUCK. OW!”

Someone bursts into the bathroom wildly, immediately shoving Josie aside to get to the sink.

“Hey, you can’t just barge—!” Josie snaps her mouth shut at seeing who it is. “Oh, it’s _you_.”

Hope ignores her, bending down to reach the sink. She frantically splashes water into her face, rubbing roughly at her eyes. Water splashes all over the bathroom, most of it soaking through Hope’s shirt and some of it landing on Josie.

Josie jumps out of the splash zone. “You can’t just barge in here, perv.”

Hope speaks from underwater:

“As if I would ever— _fuck_ —be here for you— _god, shit._ ”

Hope trashes and gasps and swears excessively, her voice stained with rough panic. She looks as if she’s trying to drown herself.

Josie watches it all, stunned.

“Um.” She says, after a while. She kicks the door closed with her foot, feeling as if this might be something Hope wouldn’t want anyone else to see. “Do you need any help?”

“ _No_.” Hope snaps.

“Cool. Screw you, then.” Josie opens up the door but never actually leaves, never really plans to, not when Hope resembles a drowning puppy.

“Wait! Wait!” Hope calls out. “I do, uh, need help.”

“Hmm… say please.”

Hope grits her teeth. “Would you _please_ help me? Ethan— _the asshole_ —spilled beer in my eye.”

Taking pity on her, Josie gently maneuvers Hope away from the sink and towards the bathtub by her shoulders. Hope goes easily, her eyes firmly shut. Josie sets her down on the edge of the tub and turns to go look for a towel.

“What are you doing?” Hope asks.

“Looking for a towel.”

“Why?”

“Just trust me.”

Hope makes a sound that probably means she doesn’t trust Josie at all, but that’s fine. At least she doesn’t make any attempts to move. Josie sorts through the cabinets to find a clean towel and holds it under the water until it’s soaking wet.

She returns to Hope and pauses, staring at the open seat of Hope’s lap. Should she just…?

“Saltzman?” Hope questions, waving her hand around like she thinks Josie might have ditched her.

“I’m here.” She assures and tentatively sits on Hope’s lap after a moment’s hesitation.

Hope doesn’t make a sound.

Josie gently tilts Hope’s head backwards, holding her in place as she brings the towel to her face. She tries to be extra careful while brushing over Hope’s eyelids, not wanting to actually harm her. Josie can tell that Hope’s eyes are moving fastly beneath the lids, but she can’t tell what Hope is trying to look at. Maybe Hope is trying to look at _her_. Josie really wishes she wouldn’t. How would she handle eye contact— _blue, blue, blue_ —when she’s in this position? In Hope’s lap?

“Can I open my eyes now?” Hope asks.

“Yeah.” Josie whispers. Her voice cracks. Damn it. She hopes it isn’t noticeable.

Hope opens her eyes. Her pupils are blown wide, her irises only a thin ring of color and still just as distracting. She blinks. Her eyelashes stand out, long and dark, against fair skin.

_Jesus_.

Why does she have to be pretty?

Hope smiles faintly. “Thanks, Princess.”

Josie flicks Hope on the cheek. Hard. Hope huffs and reaches up to rub the skin. Why does she also have to be an ass?

“Ow.” She complains. “Violent.”

“Don’t call me that. I have a name.” Josie tells her. She hates the new nickname Hope has coined for her. _Princess_? Who even calls anyone that? It makes her sound like she’s five years old.

Hope nods. “Right, right. Josephine.”

“It’s not that.”

“Well, what is it?”

“Guess.”

“God, you’re insufferable.” Hope grumbles, back to being an ass. Fine. Josie stands up. At least, she tries to, before Hope yanks her back down.

She lands hard on Hope’s lap, firmly straddling her this time. A squeak lodges itself in Josie’s throat. It takes all of her power to keep her lips firmly sealed. It takes all of her power not to say something embarrassing or make a high-pitched noise.

Hope is so goddamn warm. It’s as if she’s sitting atop smoldering ash, the lava of Hope’s warmth drifting up all over her body.

“Wait, wait, I’ve got it.” Hope says seriously. Josie moves her hands to grip the back of Hope’s neck for balance. Just for balance. Nothing else. “It’s… Joseph.”

Josie can’t help but giggle at Hope’s completely serious expression. She jokingly punches Hope’s shoulder and Hope finally laughs along.

“Tell me, for real. Tell me, I want to know.” Hope requests, almost sounding desperate, rubbing tiny circles into Josie’s hips with her thumbs. If Hope notices Josie shiver at the touch, she says nothing of it.

“It’s Josette.” She reveals, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. It’s a habit.

“Josette.” Hope tests it on her tongue. “That’s… that’s pretty.”

God, they’re so fucking close.

Josie holds her breath and keeps it caught in her throat like it’s the last bit of air in the whole world, feeling nothing but the sudden, simmering heat pooling low in her abdomen.

She isn’t sure if it’s the alcohol or the haze of the party that makes her think of kissing Hope.

Spirited laughter followed by something bumping into the door immediately draws Josie out of her stupor. She hears someone sing-screeching out in the hall ( _“Upside, inside, out! She’s livin’ la vida loca!”_ ).

Josie gets up abruptly, brushing her hands over her stomach, as if swatting away the butterflies.

“I’ve got to go find my sister.” She says, mildly apologetically. Hope just looks lost. Josie leaves before she can dwell on it for too long.

She slams the door shut behind her. She doesn’t want to kiss Hope. She _doesn’t_. Hope is everything she hates, everything she despises—rude, cocky, argumentative. No. She doesn’t want to kiss Hope.

Not even a little bit.

Not at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know nothing about cleaning beer out of your eye so if I got it wrong don’t come for me.
> 
> Also, let me know what you think. Comments are always appreciated :D
> 
> Twitter: @thatoneurchin


	6. Chapter 6

It’s almost noon when Hope rolls out of bed with an absurd amount of difficulty. Her stomach turns to an instant mess at the small action and her head is no better, hammering against her skull like it has something to prove.

Fuck.

She places a hand over her rumbling stomach, feeling it jolt unpleasantly. Shit. Hope seriously doubts that she’ll make it through the morning without throwing up at some point. She forgot just how bad her hangovers can get when she lets the team decide how much she’s drinking.

Once her insides have settled somewhat, Hope grabs a change of clothes, some socks, and her phone, and goes to take a shower. She’s barely two steps outside of her room when she trips over something living that hisses at her, causing her to land flat on her face.

“Ow! Damn it!”

Yoda, her cat and resident asshole at the house, blinks innocently at her. His hair is thick and dark orange, giving him the appearance of an adorable, very fluffy animal, but Hope knows that under all of the cuteness a demon lurks underneath.

“You did that on purpose.” Hope grumbles angrily at the cat, who tilts his head, as if mocking her.

Apparently satisfied with the amount of pain that he’s caused, Yoda struts away from her, his tail held high in the air and a smug expression on his tiny face. The jerk.

She struggles to get to her feet. Her head hurts so bad and Yoda’s sabotage definitely did not help. Hope more or less limps to the bathroom and shuts herself in it. Stripping down and finally getting into the shower is a relief, the steaming water washing away some of her pain. She stays in there long enough that her fingertips begin to wrinkle, then she steps out into the now humid room. All she wants to do for the rest of the day is bury herself in her favorite jacket and rewatch the Harry Potter movies, but she can’t.

Her Harry Potter DVDs are perfectly fine, but her jacket, on the other hand, is not. It’s elsewhere.

Why? Because of Josie, of course.

Josie has been rubbing her the wrong way lately. Actually, Josie has been rubbing her the wrong way since they met. The only reason she thought that Josie was half-okay last night was because Josie _happened_ to be in the bathroom at the same time as her and _happened_ to help her out, but otherwise Josie has been nothing but utterly irritating.

Snatching her phone off the sink, Hope types out a text to Josie, not pausing to think.

**Hope [11:47am]:**  
You still have my jacket.

She waits a minute, until she sees that Josie has read her text without leaving a response.

**Hope [11:48am]:**  
:( !

**Josie [11:48am]:**  
don’t be a baby

**Hope [11:48am]:**  
You’re a thief.

**Josie [11:49am]:**  
u could have just taken it off me

What was she supposed to do? Find Josie at the party and _strip_ it off of her? Hope huffs. She texts back, a flush of red growing across her face at the idea.

**Hope [11:50am]:**  
Or you could have been polite for once and just returned it.

A second later, Hope’s phone rings.

_“Me? Polite for once?”_ Josie’s voice rings sharply in her ear. Hope flinches backwards and sets the phone on speaker, laying it down on the sink. “I cleaned your eye last night and all you did was make fun of my name.”

It’s funny how Hope can imagine the slight pout on Josie’s face, the expression she wears when she’s annoyed.

(Hope is becoming almost fond of it.)

“I know you thought it was funny. I remember you laughing.” Hope points out.

“Well, you remembered wrong—“

Someone starts to knock on the bathroom door, stealing Hope’s attention for a second.

“Hope! Breakfast is ready!” Hayley calls through the wood.

“Okay, give me a minute.”

Unfortunately, Josie is still speaking on the other end of the line—speaking quite loudly, actually, especially with being on speaker. Hope reaches out to turn down her volume, but it’s too late.

Hayley cracks open the door, peeking her head through curiously. “Are you calling someone in the bathroom?”

“No.” Hope says quickly.

“Is that your mom?” Josie asks. She has very inconvenient timing. “Wait. You’re calling me in your bathroom? Don’t you think that’s just a little bit pervy—“

Hope hangs up.

Her whole face is uncomfortably flushed with heat, both out of embarrassment and anger. How dare Josie call her a perv? And in front of her mother, too? Luckily, Hayley still seems to be too confused on the situation to comment on it.

Hope sighs. “I’ll be down in five, mom.”

***

Sebastian gets to lunch five minutes late, rushing in to snag a protein bar before settling down next to Hope. He pushes his hand through his hair to slick it all back, the strands still soaking wet from his shower. There’s a giddy energy surrounding him. His face is bright with color, beaming a smile like the sun, even as he shovels his cheap snack down.

“Everything good, dude?” Ethan asks. “You’re sort of giving us a Joker smile.”

“Everything is perfect.” Sebastian continues to grin.

Hope eyes him with barely-concealed concern, wondering if her teammate is heading towards insanity or something. No one is ever this happy about sitting around to eat lunch. Everyone else at the table is acting relatively normal, chatting away mindlessly while they eat.

Meanwhile, Sebastian’s eyes are so lit up that someone could probably spot them from the sky, and Jed hasn’t lifted his head for the entire meal.

If Hope leans forward enough, she can catch a glimpse of a quickly forming bruise on Jed’s left cheek.

Huh. Interesting.

“Care to share?” Hope prompts, because at this point Sebastian and Jed have been smiling and frowning (respectively) for a whole uninterrupted minute.

“Fuck off.” Jed mutters.

Sebastian is a lot more inclined to explain. “Last night, Elizabeth and I made things official. She’s letting me take her on a date tomorrow.”

There’s a sudden, strained silence amongst the group that seems to suck the air out of the room.

And then:

“Elizabeth? Isn’t she on the other team?” One of their teammates questions, only to rapidly shut up when Sebastian glares at him.

Sebastian is a pretty big guy, with biceps that are almost thicker than both of Hope’s legs combined and shoulders broader than anyone else on their team. It’s part of why Hope loves him on the field and it’s also why nearly everyone silently ducks their heads at his announcement.

Jed looks up. She’s surprised to see that there’s a stark purple bruise across the side of his face and that he’s glowering openly at Sebastian, lip curled out of pure anger. “What the hell? You’re going out with a Stallion? They’re our rivals.”

Sebastian shrugs. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Not that big of a deal? She could be using you to win the game and you’re too stupid to realize that. Losing could affect all of us and you don’t even care, because you want to screw some girl. You can’t go out with her. Come on, Hope, you’re our captain. Tell him.”

Hope sputters.

For some reason, her hatred for the other team doesn’t hit her as strongly as before.

Jed seems thoroughly betrayed. He must have expected Hope to agree and somehow forbid Sebastian from seeing Lizzie ever again, but that isn’t within her power. It’s not like she can control the team’s personal lives.

“I can date whoever the hell I want.” Sebastian says, firmly.

Both boys glare at each other. A couple people scoot away, in case of an upcoming fight.

To everyone’s surprise, Jed picks up his lunch tray and storms away. Hope watches him throw the last of his food in the trash before leaving the cafeteria.

His departure leaves the air around the table thick with tension.

“Whatever.” Sebastian finally scoffs. “Pay him no mind. He’s just pissed off because he got beaten up by some Stallion at the party. He’ll get over it soon.”

Now that the general hostility is gone, she gives Sebastian a concerned look. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, but don’t you think it’s a little bit suspicious for the enemy to ask you out before our rematch?”

“She’s not the enemy. You don’t know her, she’s better than you could imagine.”

(Hope seriously doubts that).

“Maybe. But—“

“You should meet her. Like, actually talk to her. I got invited to go bowling with her and her friends. I’m sure no one would mind if you came.” He has an obvious, hopeful glint in his eyes that sort of reminds her of a puppy.

Reluctantly, Hope agrees. “Fine.”

***

By the time the school day is over, Hope’s skin is annoyingly cold and she misses the weight of her favorite jacket on her shoulders.

She thinks of texting Josie— _the thief_ —again, but that just leads to her thinking of what Josie said to her earlier. You could have just taken it off me. The thought makes her stomach clench strangely in a way that is almost pleasant and completely terrifying. She decides not to send Josie anything at all.

***

The bowling alley is a place Hope hasn’t visited since she was a kid. She can vaguely remember attending a few birthday parties here during her childhood and, with a bit of lingering nostalgia, recognizes most of the interior. The alleyways are mostly cleared up, only two out of ten are taken by a group of young teenagers down the aisle. Flashing, neon lights mark the entrance to a small arcade and beside that is a stand. There are arcade tickets, cheap prizes, bowling shoes, and various candies behind the counter.

In front of the counter, two girls are standing and fiddling with the money in their purses. _Two_ girls. One blonde, one brunette. Lizzie and Josie. As in, not the promised group of Lizzie’s friends that Sebastian mentioned and instead just the four of them.

Damn it.

Hope considers bolting.

This isn’t what she signed up for. She only said yes because she assumed it was going to be a couple hours spent in a large group. This makes it look as if they are all on a double date or something, which they are absolutely not.

Hope opens her mouth to tell Sebastian that she is going to leave before this gets worse, but her eyes stray to the two sisters once again.

Josie’s hair sticks out on either side of her head, pulled into two delicate braids that wind together at the end. Her legs are clad in a simple pair of blue jeans and she wears slightly heeled boots on her feet, but— _of fucking course_ —she still has on Hope’s jacket. Hope can see her own last name splayed across Josie’s back. It’s glaring at her from a distance, seemingly calling out to her.

_Seriously?_

Sebastian follows her line of sight and goes pale once he sees what Hope is noticing. “Look, just try to be civil—“

Hope marches across the bowling alley before he can finish his sentence and stops dead in front of Josie.

“Take it off.” Hope demands, immediately.

Both Lizzie and Josie startle for a second at her sudden presence, but the shock falls off of their faces soon enough. Almost instantly, Lizzie flees to go jump into Sebastian’s arms, while Josie’s face shifts to a calm, unbothered expression.

“I was joking about the pervert thing, you know, but now I’m not so sure.” Josie’s lips tilt up at the edge.

They’re a deep pink color today, smoothed over and shiny with lip gloss. Hope can’t stop herself from glancing downwards, just for a split second. Josie has the most distracting mouth Hope has ever seen in her entire life—beautifully full, her bottom lip so plump that it gives her the subtle appearance of a constant pout.

Wait, _no._ She’s supposed to be mad.

She _is_ mad.

Hope fixes her expression into a scowl, but Josie acts as if Hope isn’t even there, acknowledging her only through a single glance and a grin, like she can feel the anger radiating off of Hope and is _enjoying_ it.

The cashier suddenly returns to the register with a tiny, stuffed animal in hand. “Here you go.”

“Thank you.” Josie replies, glowing.

The man gives her some sort of stuffed, purple fish with fuzzy fins and two black, beady eyes. It looks creepy to Hope, but apparently Josie is into this sort of thing, because she begins to stroke over a fin affectionately. Hope can barely stop herself from rolling her eyes once Josie starts to hug the thing.

Josie must notice. “Do you have a problem?”

“Yes, actually. We’re here to _bowl_ , not buy creepy stuffed animals.”

“Is that all?”

Hope’s lips snap down into a tight frown. For no reason at all, she finds herself utterly infuriated by Josie’s clear indifference to the situation. She finds herself almost desperate for Josie to take the bait and insult her back.

“No.” She scrambles to think of something good to say and comes up empty. “Your voice is annoying.”

It’s childish, she knows, but so far none of their interactions have been very mature.

Unfortunately, Josie instantly lights up, absolutely delighted by what Hope said. She steps forward, not close enough to touch but close enough to make Hope’s skin warm. This is the first time that Hope notices how Josie’s boots give her an extra two inches in height, so she practically towers over Hope.

“Really?” Josie’s annoying, incredibly distracting lips lift into a smirk. “I thought you _liked_ the sound of my voice, considering your little bathroom call earlier.”

Hope has nothing to say.

She can feel the tips of her ears burning at what Josie is insinuating, but all attempts to think of a comeback prove to be useless.

Thankfully, Sebastian and Lizzie return from their brief, impromptu make out session before it gets too awkward.

“We should get our shoes.” Sebastian suggests.

There is no way Hope is staying here with Josie for the next two hours. It’s barely been a minute and she’s already been insulted _and_ humiliated.

“We already got ours.” Lizzie assures. “Come on, Jo, let’s go put them on.”

Josie and Lizzie walk away, arms linked.

Hope immediately rounds on Sebastian. “I’m not putting on any bowling shoes. I’m leaving. You said it was Lizzie and friends, _not_ Lizzie and Josie.”

“Josie is a friend… of sorts.” Sebastian avoids her eyes.

“She’s her sister!”

“She’s not that bad. You said you would come. Just stay an hour, please?” He clasps his hands together in a desperate, begging gesture.

Hope looks past him, over by where Josie and Lizzie are tying up their shoes. The brunette is kneeling to reach her laces, the sleeves of her (Hope’s) jacket pushed up to her elbows. Hope can’t leave like this, giving Josie the upper hand and her clothing.

“Fine.”

After they get their shoe sizes sorted out, they go to join the twins. Sebastian and Hope sit side by side, both of them focused on tying their laces, while Josie and Lizzie chat with each other.

“God. I haven't been bowling since dad’s tragic bowling league in middle school.” Lizzie visibly shudders at the memory, making Josie giggle.

“That was so bad. Remember how he grew out his beard because _real bowlers have facial hair, and I’m a real bowler?”_ The way Josie says it sounds as if she is imitating a middle-aged man. Both of the twins laugh lightly at the memory.

Hope stares down at her feet to hide her smile. It was kind of funny.

“At least I got some bowling skills out of it.” Josie continues to say, and that makes Hope snap her head up.

“ _You_ have bowling skills?” She interrupts them.

Sebastian sighs beside her, as if begging her to not start shit for once.

Well, too bad.

He made her promise to stay, but Hope didn’t promise to be nice the whole time.

“Yep. Best bowler in Mystic Falls.” Josie tells her, rather boldly, her eyes flashing with the kind of thinly-veiled competitiveness Hope has only seen from her on the field.

Hope scoffs. “I doubt that.”

“Want to bet?”

Since Hope is done tying her shoes, she stands up. With both of them in similar shoes, Josie is no longer lifted up by her boots. Unfortunately, Josie is still much taller, and Hope still has to tilt her head up to make eye contact, no matter how much it hurts her pride.

“Sure.” Hope briefly thinks of betting so that Josie will have to give up the jacket, but that already belongs to Hope (although it is starting to feel as if it doesn’t), and she refuses to grovel over her own property. “If I win, then you have to publicly announce that I’m a better football player than you.”

Josie pauses, thinking. “Okay, but if I win you’ve got to buy me a stuffed animal and… ice cream.”

They shake on it, Josie’s long fingers brushing gently over Hope’s wrist. Hope’s stomach gives that strangely pleasant jolt again. She ignores it.

***

Hope loses.

Only by one strike, but still. She loses.

Josie jumps up and down enthusiastically while squealing like a child when she wins. Obviously, Hope is not nearly as excited about the outcome (or about Josie’s gloating). She swears under her breath.

“Don’t be sad.” Josie says, her voice light as air, but a little patronizing. “It’s just ‘cause you didn’t play right.”

Sebastian snickers.

Hope shoots a death glare at him. She still has her bowling ball in hand and is contemplating aiming it at his face, but instead she turns her attention back to Josie.

“I played fine.”

“Well, clearly not, because you lost.”

Clenching her fists at her sides, Hope tries to come up with something to say that will knock Josie off of her high horse, but also not make it seem as if Hope is a complete asshole.

“Well, if you’re so perfect at it, why don’t you show me?” She forces out through gritted teeth.

It’s supposed to be an insult, not an invitation, but Josie sets down the pink lemonade that she bought earlier with a small huff, like Hope’s bad bowling skills have genuinely offended her. She steps behind Hope, immediately seizing Hope’s hips to pull them flush against each other, while her free hand seeks out the arm that Hope was using to bowl. Josie repositions it carefully, her burning hands branding scars right onto Hope’s skin.

Hope almost drops the damn ball.

Through the thin layer of her clothes, she can feel Josie’s body heat seeping through her. She has to clamp her lips shut to keep from making an embarrassing noise, like a gasp or, God forbid, a moan. She’s quickly realizing that it’s been far too long since she’s done anything with anyone. She’s so touch-starved that even _Josie_ touching her sounds like a blessing.

“See? It’s like this.” Josie is saying, but she might as well be underwater. Hope hadn’t even realized that she was speaking or that she was moving their joined hands.

Josie swings the ball so that it falls from their palms and rolls down the lane, perfectly knocking all of the pins.

“Yeah, I see.” Hope murmurs, weakly.

She’s surprised to hear that her voice leaves her lips in a gentle whisper instead of in the harsh or biting tone that she usually directs at Josie. She thinks that Josie is surprised to hear it, too, because her hands linger curiously on Hope’s hips. Hope feels paralyzed in her spot, unable to pry herself away from the warmth that Josie offers.

“Oh my god. Just kiss already.” Lizzie exclaims suddenly. Hope jumps about a foot in the air and forces herself away from Josie. Oh god. Had she just been leaning into Josie? How much weirder can this day get?

“Lizzie!” Josie snaps.

“What?” Lizzie innocently raises her hands in the air. “You’re the one feeling her up in a bowling alley.”

What the hell was she just doing? Hope takes a deep breath, standing off to the side and hoping no one notices how her chest heaves as she inhales desperately. It’s fine. She wasn’t going to do anything. She hates Josie.

She _hates_ her.

“I wasn’t feeling her up.” Josie raises her voice, a panicked tremble laced through her words. “As if I would ever do that with _her_.”

That hurts for some reason, stings beneath the layers of Hope’s skin. What’s so wrong with her that Josie wouldn’t want her? It’s no matter. It’s not like Hope wanted Josie in the first place.

Hope sneers at her, pretending not to feel the hard pang of rejection spreading throughout her chest. “Good, because I’d never let you.”

“Great. I’d never want to.”

“Okay, well. No one wants anyone, then. Problem resolved.” Sebastian chimes in, clearly trying to play peacemaker before this escalates too far. “I saw some baseball cards behind the counter, so we should go shop for a bit, yeah?”

For Sebastian’s sake, Hope stays silent and lets him guide them over to the counter, where they change back into their regular shoes and survey the items on sale. Sebastian gets some baseball cards, along with a glittery, purple hat for Lizzie. Hope doesn’t want anything, but Josie spends a whole lifetime looking at all of the stuffed animals that she could force Hope into getting for her.

After what feels like forever, Josie finally settles on a large, yellow bear with a bright red ribbon tied around its neck.

Hope buys it for her without making a single rude remark or saying something teasing, which feels like a big accomplishment, considering the way Josie actually coos at a freaking toy. When they get done paying for everything, they go outside and Sebastian and Lizzie part ways with them to go have a private goodbye—which just means making out against the wall.

Ew.

Hope points herself away from them, but that means she has to face Josie. She watches as Josie has a one-sided conversation with her new toy.

“It’s not living.” Hope blurts out, unable to stop herself.

“Shh.” Josie says, still talking to the bear. “Don’t mind her. She’s just mad because she’s not good at bowling and because you’re cuter than she is.”

Hope has had enough of this night. “You know what? I don’t care. Give me my jacket back.”

Josie undoes the buttons and slips the garment off her shoulders. Hope half-expected her to be wearing something fancy and expensive under, like Roman used to do, but all she has on is a simple crop top. Josie tosses the jacket at her and Hope catches it, her eyes instinctively lowering to trace over the flat stretch of Josie’s stomach, before she forces herself to look away.

Shivering slightly, Josie hugs her elbows as if she’s cold and an odd thought slivers up into Hope’s brain.

Should she give it back?

No. It belongs to her, not Josie. Hope rids the silly thought from her mind. Why is she acting so idiotic tonight?

They wait a few more minutes for Sebastian and Lizzie to finish up.

It’s awkward, standing there in silence, forced to listen to the disgustingly wet sounds of Sebastian and Lizzie kissing only a couple of feet away. To make matters worse, it doesn’t seem as if they’re going to stop anytime soon. Hope feels the need to find something to say.

“So…” She trails off, already hating herself for opening up her mouth. She’s made it worse.

Josie looks at her curiously. “So?”

“My eye is feeling better.” Hope decides to tell her, thinking of the party. “Whatever you did… helped.”

All Josie does is tilt her head, possibly more curious now than before. “Was that a thank you?”

“It was a statement.”

Then, Josie does something unexpected: she laughs. She lets out such a sweet, bubbly sound that it renders Hope completely speechless for a moment, thrown off her axis by this bright girl in front of her. Josie’s cheeks tint light pink, but her teeth are pearly white, and her shoulders tremble at Hope’s dry humor. It wasn’t even that funny. No one likes Hope’s blunt one-liners.

No one but Josie, apparently.

***

Walking through her neighborhood in the dark is a much easier task with her jacket protecting her from the cold. Still, it’s pitch black out and she’s a teenage girl walking all alone, so she keeps up a brisk pace. No matter how fast Hope walks, she can’t seem to escape this lingering scent that clings to her with every step. It’s familiar, but she can’t place it.

Hope slows to a stop about half a block away from her house. Several figures are standing on her porch, cloaked in darkness. She approaches cautiously, every bone in her body coiled tightly until she gets close enough to make out the red, white, and black letterman jackets. As she gets closer, she recognizes the familiar faces of her teammates.

Almost everyone is there, except for Sebastian and a few stragglers. Penelope and Jed sit on the stairs leading up to her house, speaking in hushed tones. Cans of spray paint lay at their feet.

“What are you guys doing here?” Hope asks. All of them stand up immediately like she has given them an order.

Their serious expressions unsettle her.

Penelope examines Hope’s outfit closely. “Good, you’ve got your jacket back. Now you’re dressed for the situation.”

“What situation?” An unease grows in her chest the longer they take to answer.

No one responds to her, so Jed steps forward, the nasty bruise on his face appearing beneath the moonlight. “We’re gonna go mess with those spoiled assholes over at the Salvatore school. Are you in?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Hope this makes up for it, this chapter is a little longer than usual

So, here Hope is:

Standing outside the large gates of the Salvatore School with the rest of the team, hiding beneath the darkness of the night, searching carefully for a way to get in.

Hope anxiously twists the ring on her finger. It slides over her skin far too easily. She realizes, with slight embarrassment, that her palms are beginning to sweat. She is the only one in the group who isn’t moving around. Everyone else can’t seem to keep still — they move at a rapid pace, checking every inch of the gate for some kind of secret entrance — but Hope stays rooted to the same place that she’s been standing since they all got out of the van.

She doesn’t need to look for a way in. She already knows one. It’s just a matter of whether or not she wants to mention it to her team or not.

Honestly, the team seems a bit crazed. The sight of the school’s enormous lawn and its tall, towering gate seems to have brought on a bout of jealousy. Mystic Falls High is nothing like this. It pales in comparison in every way there is to do so.

Jed, in particular, seems angered the most. He hits his fist against the gate uselessly, hiding his wince.

“You’ll break your hand that way.” Hope points out, only because she can’t have him running around the field with broken bones. If he wasn’t on her team, she would let the idiot hurt himself as much as he wishes.

“Well, there has to be some way in.” Jed flexes his fingers, eyeing the locked gate. “Maybe I can punch through it—“

Hope grabs him, pulling him roughly back. “No, you dumbass. You’ll get yourself hurt.”

“Glad to know you care.”

“I don’t.” She snaps, annoyed.

Jed storms off, not going very far, subtly clutching his bruised knuckles against his chest. He tries to climb over the gate, but it’s a useless attempt. It’s much too tall to climb.

Hope watches them all for another moment.

She’s decided that they’ll have to go home. This is a good compromise for everyone. Hope never wanted to come here in the first place, but now that she’s successfully shown her support as the captain, she can deem this a failed pursuit and they can leave. It’s a stupid plan, anyways.

Hope sighs. “Oh, well. Looks like we can’t—“

“Hey, Hope?” Penelope interjects. Hope sighs at the interruption. She’s cold and she wants to go home. “Didn’t you used to come here every night to see Roman?”

Fuck.

“Yes.”

The shift in conversation catches some people’s attention. Multiple eyes turn to look at her. Hope bounces on her heels, feeling a sudden prickle of anxiety. She wishes Penelope would shut up.

Trying to deflect, Hope says, “I don’t really know why you’re asking, Pen, but if you’re hoping for a detailed retelling of what I did with my ex every night, then—“

Another interruption.

“No, no.” Penelope waves her hand through the air. “I just mean, you must have snuck in, right?”

Now everyone is looking at her.

This is exactly what Hope wanted to avoid. She’s caught between wanting to run away or straight up lie to everyone here, but neither of those are true options. She can’t just leave. How would she ever be able to live it down?

“Right.” Hope nods, reluctantly. “I… forgot. Sorry. There’s another entrance right behind that bush over there.”

Jed rushes over to where Hope is pointing. Some part of her wishes that Jed will be too stupid to find it, but—

“Jackpot!”

And there it is. On a smaller section of the gate, there is a tiny entrance that’s only there in case of emergency. Apparently, Roman discovered it after a bear somehow got onto the property and everyone in the school had to use a different exit. Hope broke the lock on it a while ago, just so she could come visit him after football practice, but now that seems like a poor decision on her part.

“You’re a lifesaver, Hope. I could kiss you.” Jed beams and pats her on the back a bit too hard, sending her stumbling forward an inch.

“Please don’t.”

Jed picks up a bag and slings it across his back, the spray cans inside rattling as they knock into each other. He pries the lock off of the door and holds it open for her.

“Ladies first.” He gestures to Hope. She walks in past him, silently thinking that this is the absolute worst time for him to become a gentleman.

It’s so late that the school appears to be deserted, only one light showing in a window on the second floor. It’s deadly silent. She can’t see more than three feet in front of her or hear anything besides Jed’s loud breathing.

“Alright, huddle up.” Hope beckons them into a circle instead of clapping like she normally would on the field, because she doesn’t want to make too much noise. They listen to her, all waiting for instruction. “We’re going for the field and only the field. Nowhere else. It’s too risky to try and go inside, and if you end up getting caught we’re leaving your ass here.”

A few of them chuckle uneasily.

“Okay, Captain Hard-ass. Why don’t you lead the way?” Penelope says.

“Fine.” Hope grumbles, glancing up at the lighted window. Would Josie be awake right now? No. It isn’t the right time to think about her.

She leads them across the grass and behind the school, where the football field is. They spread out, taking cans of spray paint and crowbars with them. Hope stands off to the side with a can, not putting in much effort as she paints a pair of boobs in bright red, feeling about as mature as a middle schooler. She notices Jed drawing a big ‘J’ and elbows him in side, stopping him before he can finish writing his name.

“No spray painting your name.” Hope hisses. Jed rolls his eyes and turns the letter into a gigantic penis.

What is he trying to do? Get them caught?

The blame will probably be on them tomorrow no matter what they do. They’re already the Stallions known rivals and the paints are red and black, but still. Hope would rather not leave firm evidence that this was them, that way there is less of a chance of any harsh punishment.

Thankfully, they’re done soon. As they walk back, Hope is hit by curiosity. She lifts herself up onto her tippy toes, peering into the single well-lit window, and stops dead at what she sees.

Josie.

The light is just enough that Hope can see Josie standing in front of her window, staring out at the glass. For a second, Hope wonders if the dark is enough to hide them — but no. No. She _knows_ that Josie can see her. She feels the weight of her gaze all over her body, crushing her, holding her paralyzed in place. The distance between them does absolutely nothing to make it feel any less daunting. They share a long, silent look that seems to freeze every bone in Hope’s body.

She can’t breathe.

Oh god. Josie saw them. Fuck. No. Fuck, fuck—

“Shit. _Shit_.” Hope swears loudly, causing four of them to jump, startled. She grabs Penelope’s arm because it’s the closest thing to her. “We have to go. Now.”

“What’s gotten into you?” Penelope blinks much too slowly for Hope’s liking.

_“Now!”_

“Alright fine.” Penelope yanks her arm back and looks at Hope like she’s crazy. “We’ll go. Where’s Jed?”

Hope throws up her hands in exasperation. He’s nowhere to be seen. “Fuck Jed! He’s lost it. Let’s go.”

“But—“

“But _what?”_

Penelope replies in a smaller voice. “He… uh, has the car keys.”

Fucking hell. Hope could strangle him.

Hope twirls in a circle, looking everywhere for him, becoming frantic as more time goes on and she can’t find him. Panic twists its way into her heart. She feels awful. They’re all going to end up expelled, not to mention the look on Josie’s face when they saw each other.

But maybe she didn’t see? Maybe it was too dark out? Maybe Jed is peacefully waiting for them in the van and he just neglected to tell anyone?

She spots movement a couple of yards away, a moving figure by the greenhouse’s entrance. Jed.

They scramble after him, but it’s too late.

Jed — not thinking, _never_ thinking — has already done way too much damage. Potted plants lay in shards on the ground, dirt strewn everywhere, the entirety of the floor covered in soil and bits and pieces of leaves.

“What the hell?” Hope whisper-yells, not able to raise her voice as much as she wants to. This is worse than she thought.

“What? I’m having fun.” He shrugs. “Get the stick out of your ass.”

Hope more or less drags him to the car, yanking him by the ear so hard that she almost rips it off. She shoves him into the driver’s seat while the rest of them hurriedly pile into the backseat. Jed floors it, sending them speeding down the street and away from the school in the blink of an eye.

They sit in silence for a minute, the only sound in the car being the engine and their shared, heavy breaths.

“That was unnecessary.” Jed says, finally, and rubs his ear, glaring at Hope.

She drops her head into her hands and groans.

Loudly.

It’s only then that Hope realizes that she lost her ring.

***

_Long fingers tease across Hope’s skin, trailing up her thighs slowly, so slowly, that it’s maddening, never quite touching where she needs them. Lips draw a heated path along her neck, teeth scrape against her throat, and a low moan floods out of Hope like water._

_A sweet voice whispers her name, over and over again. “Hope, Hope, Hope…”_

_Hope chases after the voice, tempted by its velvet quality and breathy tone, but she finds that she can’t answer. She doesn’t care. Her hips rock up on their own accord and are immediately forced down by the weight on top of her._

_A quiet chuckle fills the space between them. It’s teasing. Always teasing, never giving Hope what she wants._

_“So pretty…” That goddamn voice practically purrs, just as intoxicating as before, and so, so familiar, but Hope can’t place it. It’s on the very tip of her tongue._

_Brown hair and full lips flash before her vision, and suddenly she knows exactly who it is._

_Josie leans closer, mischief swimming in the depths of her eyes. She smirks. “I thought you didn’t like my voice.”_

Hope wakes up with a jolt, panting hard.

She hovers on the verge of consciousness for a while, her center still throbbing with the heat of desire, until she fully falls back into reality. Her cheeks burn red in embarrassment as her mind forces a single name into her head: Josie.

This is bad. It’s so bad. Hope tries to fight off the memory of it, even as her heart continues to beat restlessly, each thud reminding her of the dream.

Hope walks to the bathroom and lowers her head into the sink, frantically splashing water onto her face, trying to cool the fire beneath her skin. She lifts her head to stare at her own reflection and blushes further at the sight of herself. Her pupils are blown wide with lust and she is unnaturally flushed for this time of day, shining bright pink. It unnerves her. She runs a shaky hand through sweat-slick hair, finding it incredibly hard to calm down.

She wants Josie. At least, physically. Hope can admit that. It’s not even a full-blown crush.

Hope splashes herself once more before going back out into her bedroom. She grabs her shoes and kneels to tie the laces. Running is the best thing for her right now.

A lot of teenagers have urges. It’s perfectly fine. It’s normal. It doesn’t have to mean anything.

Besides, Josie hates her. If she didn’t before, then she definitely does now that she caught Hope vandalizing the school. And the garden… her heart twists with something like guilt. She needs to get it together. Everything is fine.

Once Hope finishes with her shoes, she leaves the house and jogs down the street. She picks up the pace, running so fast and for so long that her lungs scorch and her heartbeat blares like an alarm in her ears.

When she returns to her house she has forgotten about Josie almost completely.

“Hey, Hope.” Her mother is in the kitchen, sorting through the items in the fridge. She throws Hope a cold bottle of water. “How about we all go to dinner together tonight? We can celebrate early, since your rematch is tomorrow.”

Hope takes a sip and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Alright. I’ll go shower.”

***

Dinner is a lot more stressful than Hope planned.

Someone cheers happy birthday and Hope looks behind her for the hundredth time, glancing at a table in the back of the restaurant where a very familiar face sits: Lizzie Saltzman. What are the odds that Josie’s sister would be here? What are the odds that Josie herself will show up soon to come sit with her family? Hope guesses that the odds are pretty high, considering the chair across from Lizzie is currently empty.

“Hope?” Hayley calls. Hope gets the sense that she has been trying to catch her attention for a while.

“Yeah? Sorry.” She turns back around.

“It’s fine. I was just going to ask if you knew that girl. You keep looking at her.”

Hope shakes her head quickly. “Her? No. Not at all. I’m actually feeling kind of weird tonight, can we go to a different restaurant?”

“Nonsense.” Klaus chimes in. “This is your favorite restaurant. Order something, it’s on me.”

She forces a polite smile onto her face and nods at her parents before looking down at her menu. The words swim on the page, barely legible. She blinks to clear her vision and even then none of the food looks appetizing to her. She flinches as a brunette waitress walks by her, only calming down when she notices that the waitress is much paler than Josie.

Where is Josie? She has to show up, doesn’t she? Maybe Hope can eat quickly enough that they’ll leave before she arrives…

A waiter stops in front of their table. “Hello, I’m Jacob. I’ll be your server today. Do you guys know what you’d like to order or do you need a bit more time?”

“Need a bit more time.” Hayley responds, before Hope even has a chance to open her mouth.

Ugh.

“I’ll come back in a few minutes.” The waiter says and nods politely, stepping away. As soon as he moves, Hope’s view of the entrance opens up.

Josie sorts through her purse, not looking up yet, and Hope shrinks in her seat, praying that Josie won’t notice her. She lowers herself enough that her legs bump into her parents’ knees, but she doesn’t care. She wants to stay hidden. Seconds tick by and it becomes increasingly apparent that Josie probably has seen her, but Hope can’t be sure.

“Mikaelson!”

Well.

Never mind then.

Hope pulls herself back up to her full height in an instant. She schools her expression into one of blank indifference, though her shaky fingers slip over her fork. Josie stops directly in front of her.

“Hi.” Hope says innocently.

“Hi?” Josie repeats. Apparently the greeting was the wrong choice. “I know what you did.”

“Oh. Is she a friend of yours?” Hayley asks. This draws Hope’s attention to the fact that her family is watching this whole interaction. She withers at the idea of them continuing to watch the rest of it.

Hope scrambles to sit up and storms out of the restaurant, pulling Josie along by the wrist.

The wind brushes over them in a way that could be pleasant, but the fact that Josie chose to pick a fight with her in front of her parents brings back her anger.

“What the hell are you doing?” Hope demands. “My family is here. Have your silly little temper tantrum elsewhere.”

She glances anxiously at her parents through the restaurant’s window.

“You’re acting like a child.” Hope adds, crossing her arms over her chest. She wants Josie to go. Maybe if she acts like an asshole Josie will just leave.

Josie scoffs. “That’s rich, coming from you. Your team can’t take one freaking loss—“

“—we didn’t lose—“

“Without vandalizing our property, but _I’m_ the one having a tantrum? _I’m_ the child?”

Hope keeps her composure and nods. “Well, I only see one of us screaming their heads off in a public place. So, yes. You’re the child.”

Their gazes lock as Josie steps forward, so close that their chests almost brush. Hope can see the deep brown of Josie’s eyes and nothing else. For a second, her carefully-placed mask slips off and she gives Josie’s body a quick once-over, the dream still fresh in her mind. Her fists tremble at her sides, grasping at air instead of smooth skin.

Josie speaks in a low tone. “I _know_ you did it.”

Hope swallows.

“I didn’t do shit.” Hope’s voice trembles. She hates herself for it. “You have no proof.”

Josie digs into her pocket and produces a small, glinting object. She shoves it roughly into Hope’s chest and Hope nearly stumbles backwards from the force of it.

“You’re a bad liar.”

Hope watches Josie walk away from her, never moving her eyes until she sees Josie disappear into the restaurant. She looks down at the object and feels her breath catch. It’s her ring.

***

Hope stands in the middle of the football field the next day, fiddling nervously with the sweaty collar of her jersey. There’s about five minutes left until the game ends and it looks as if they’re going to win, but for once, she’s not in the mood for any of it. She glances at the scoreboard and sees that they’re beating the Stallions by one touchdown, yet her victory fails to give her the sense of joy that it usually would. Her traitorous eyes stray to the other side of the field, where the other team is huddled.

She spots Josie standing between her sister and some boy that Hope doesn’t know the name of, talking to them both. Josie says something rude or angry, judging by her body language (Hope is getting pretty good at telling when Josie is pissed off), and Lizzie storms off in the other direction. The boy sticks around, though. He holds up his hands in surrender before lowering them to grip Josie’s waist, pulling her much closer than what seems necessary.

Who _is_ this guy?

Hope nearly stomps her foot on the ground like the petulant child that Josie insists she is.

It seems so easy for other people to speak with Josie. Throughout the last hour, Hope has seen several people get Josie to smile or laugh or to do any other happy, beautiful thing, while all she gets from Josie are glares. Hope can’t help but think back on when they went bowling together and Josie had giggled for a solid thirty seconds over Hope’s lame jokes.

Those were a nice thirty seconds.

“We’ve got this in the bag.” Penelope smirks and pats Hope on the back. Hope barely feels it. She had almost forgotten Penelope was there.

Hope doesn’t have the energy for a proper smile, but she nods. “Let’s go line up, yeah?”

“Aye aye, captain.”

They all line up — Hope staring sulkily at Josie while Josie purposefully avoids her eyes — and as soon as they snap the ball, Hope charges at the boy Josie had been talking to. She plans to tackle him hard, but before she can reach him someone else slams into her side and drives her into the ground.

Hope lands with a loud huff, all the wind knocked out of her, a heavy pile of long limbs practically suffocating her. She squirms to get away, only to discover that her arms are pinned down at the wrists so that she can barely move an inch.

“Ow.” Hope mutters and immediately regrets it as she sees who it is. Of course. “Josie…”

She’s not sure what she’s going to say.

The words die on her lips, fading into a strangled groan as she comes to the realization that Josie is laying directly on top of her. It’s an incredibly embarrassing noise, but she can’t contain it. She has never been this close to Josie before, never been held down by her, never forced to just _feel_ her like this, never, never, never—

A whistle blows. “That’s game!”

It’s over far too quickly. Josie stands up without saying a single word to Hope, yet Hope feels as if she’s been threatened somehow. She lays on the ground for an extra second in order to collect herself then gets up, walking in the opposite direction of Josie.

Maya more or less leaps into her arms. “Dude, we won!”

“Yeah.” Hope says, rather unenthusiastically.

What’s wrong with her? This is everything that she’s wanted for weeks now, so why does it feel so hollow? She can barely stand to cheer along with her team.

Hope breaks away from her team as soon as she can and heads off towards the bleachers.

“Hey, Hope!” Roman yells, waving wildly.

Great. Her ex.

“Congratulations on the win.” His praise slides off of her with little to no effect, though it would’ve been the most important thing in the world to her a while ago.

“Thank you.” Hope responds politely, intending to move on, but he stops her.

“Wait. I actually wanted to know if we could hang out. The town fair is coming up and Jade told me you’ve got a new girlfriend, so you could bring her. It’d be nice to catch up.” Roman speaks so fast that Hope thinks she might’ve misheard him. She must have. She doesn’t have a girlfriend. “I know it might be a bit awkward going on a double date with your ex, but if you and Josie are cool with it then I am, too.”

Josie. Why would Josie come if… oh. Hope whips her head around, spotting Josie walking towards the locker room.

Did Josie tell people that they’re dating?

“Oh. Um, sure.” Hope regrets it almost as soon as it leaves her mouth. “That sounds… fun.”

No it doesn’t.

“Cool. I’ll text you.” Roman grins at her before turning and walking away.

Shit.

Hope stares at his retreating back, confused by the recent series of events. How is she going to get Josie to go out with her? Or fake go out with her? Asking her would probably be a good start.

A couple of minutes later — but only after making sure that her parents are preoccupied — Hope strides across the field and into the locker room. She passes a few girls who are on the way out, and without their presence the room is almost completely deserted. Her footsteps seem to echo off the floor in the silence. It’s mildly unsettling.

That’s how Hope finds Josie, clearly unsettled.

Josie isn’t out of her jersey yet, still wearing that ridiculously bright yellow and blue uniform. She massages her shoulder with her fingers, probably working out a kink in the muscle. The girl’s toned arms and long fingers prove difficult for Hope to pry her eyes away from.

Hope clears her throat.

“Nope. I’m not doing this with you.” Josie shakes her head, already looking deeply annoyed after one glance at Hope. “Seriously, Hope. Get out.”

It isn’t lost on Hope that this is one of the few times that Josie hasn’t called her by her last name. Maybe it’s the first.

“Wait. I need to ask you something.” Hope tries to keep her voice soft, make it clear that she isn’t here for an argument, but Josie seems intent on fighting her.

“Get out!”

“No.” Hope sighs. “Can we please just talk?”

“No, we can’t.” She snaps.

“Why?”

“Because we’re not friends. We don’t talk. You insult me and I insult you back.” Josie rips at her shoe laces, forcing her shoes off. “And I’m tired of your shit. I can’t put up with it right now.”

Hope’s temper cracks at the edges and before she knows it she’s standing in front of Josie.

She kicks Josie’s shoes away from her. “You know what? No. You don’t get to push me away now, right when I’m actually trying to have a civil conversation with you. Maybe I’m tired of _you!_ Did you think of that?”

Josie stands up so quickly that their noses bump together, but Hope doesn’t take a step back and neither does Josie.

“God!” Josie exclaims. “You’ve been such a pain in my ass since I met you.”

Hope grits her teeth. “And you don’t think that I feel the same? You’re there every fucking second of every day for me. You’re on my field, you’re in the park, you’re at the store, you’re at the party, you’re bowling with me. You’re right here, right now. You’re _everywhere!_ You’re in my goddamn head!”

The words sizzle between them, logs thrown on a fire, burning everything to a crisp. Their breaths come hard and fast, mingling together, and Hope can not look away from her.

It’s nearly impossible to tell who moves first.

Their mouths meet so harshly and fervently that it hurts, the impact nearly knocking Hope right off of her feet. If Hope didn’t know any better, she would say that they’re still arguing. They don’t know how to be gentle with each other and it shows.

Josie’s lips are everything she imagined and yet not close to her fantasies at all. They’re soft, so soft, but hot and demanding in a way that takes her off guard. Hope doesn’t care. Can’t care. All thoughts of waiting or being kind slip her mind as soon as Josie lays a hand on her. Josie’s fingers grip her bruisingly, hard enough to leave marks, and it should hurt, but Hope—

Hope fucking loves it.

She can’t get enough. Hope kisses back with just as much enthusiasm, just as much desperation, pulling her so close that there’s not a single inch of space between them. Josie moans, a muffled, needy sound that echoes loudly in Hope’s ears. She groans appreciatively in return and pushes Josie backwards, walking with her until they hit a wall.

Hope only realizes that they’re in the showers once she sets her hands on either side of Josie and feels wet tile. Her trembling fingers slip and slide, but she’s afraid of what she’ll do if she lets herself touch Josie.

She finally pulls away for some air, not straying very far, unwilling to leave Josie. It’s only been a few minutes, but she still struggles to catch her breath.

Josie stares up at her through long, dark lashes, her eyes wide and pleading. She tugs at Hope’s jersey, dragging Hope in closer, her pink, bruised lips more intoxicating than anything Hope has ever tasted before.

Hope can’t resist her.

She leans in again, consumed by her own desire and pent-up urges. Her hand accidentally knocks against the shower nozzle and a spurt of freezing cold water falls onto them. Josie yelps and Hope jumps back in alarm, hurriedly shutting the water off.

Very smooth of her.

The mood is effectively killed. Hope and Josie stare at each other silently, both of them too afraid to speak, and after a long moment Josie steps around Hope and exits the locker room.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: brief mention of suicide, but no actual suicide

Saturday morning begins with a storm of chaos.

All of the Timberwolves that walk into the gym that day run into the same strange predicament: their feet seem to be glued to the floor. At first, Hope mistakes this problem as nothing more than a side effect of her being particularly tired and her feet moving more sluggishly than usual, but as she takes several more steps she finds that her sneakers feel unusually sticky. The floor is coated in a thick, golden substance that smells faintly of sugar. Out of curiosity, Hope cautiously dips her finger into it. She nearly grins.

Huh. It’s just honey.

This is the Stallions doing, Hope guesses. A little revenge in return for the vandalism Hope’s team went through with a couple of days ago. It’s fair.

Ethan seems to be the most put-out by all of this, having been the first one to enter the gym. He’d somehow managed to trip and catch a faceful of honey. “Damn it. What the—“

“Language, Machado.” Coach barks, wandering off to go check the field.

“Yeah, Pooh Bear.” Penelope smirks and swipes her finger delicately across his cheek. She waves two sticky, golden fingers in front of his face. He scowls.

Shortly after, Coach returns with a slight frown on his face that indicates that the field is in a similar state. They wait quietly for him to give instruction, but it quickly becomes apparent that he’s at a complete and total loss. It’s around this point that Hope feels her annoyance spark.

“Well?” Hope demands. “We have to practice. What are you going to do about it?”

“I’m figuring it out.” He promises, but Hope very much doubts that, judging by the clueless look on his face. A second passes and a lightbulb seems to go off in his head. He hurries to get his phone out of his pocket. “I know someone who has a perfectly good field and gym…”

Hope doesn’t like the sound of that.

***

Yep.

Hope definitely doesn’t like the sound of this.

The Timberwolves and the Stallions stand on opposite sides of a field for the second time this month, except now it’s not for a game. It’s for practice together. Ugh. Hope would rather blow off her own arm than be here and she reckons her team feels the same.

Not that Coach Lockwood notices. The guy looks as jolly as ever.

“Now, I know there’s been some tension between you two teams. Neither of you have been the… friendliest, but I’m going to ask you both to try to be nice to each other, or at least civil, especially now that we’re no longer rivals. The Stallions are doing us a great favor by letting us play here, so I expect thank yous from all of you.” Coach stops to level them with a stiff look, then repeats, “I said I expect thank yous from all of you.”

Her team mumbles a chorus of unenthusiastic words, not all of them positive, some of them mere grunts or groans of displeasure. Hope says nothing. She’s not happy about being here, but she finds herself strangely unwilling to mindlessly criticize the other school.

“Kill me now.” Maya mutters under her breath and Hope smirks at the ground, silent. “Hey, how’d they get their field cleaned so quickly?”

Hope looks up. To her surprise, Maya is right. If she hadn’t been the one to personally spray-paint the grass herself, then she never would’ve guessed any harm had come to it. The field appears to be squeaky clean, almost brand new, no trace of the inappropriate drawings in sight.

“I don’t know. You could always ask them, if you want.” She shrugs.

Maya scoffs. “Ask them? I would rather—“

“Eat slugs?”

“I was going to say lick Jed’s socks, but that one works, too.” Maya laughs and Hope joins in, but her chuckle turns into more of an embarrassing, choked gasp of a noise as she stupidly makes the mistake of meeting Josie’s eyes.

Hope flushes hotly.

In the privacy of her own mind, she can admit that she’s been thinking about Josie a lot more lately. She knows she needs to find some way to convince Josie to go on this date with her, but it seems like an impossible task, even if Josie is only a few feet away from her (close enough to touch, really). She supposes that she could just ask Josie about it now, but that plan would lead to horrific teasing from her teammates. Maybe it’s a bad plan overall. She can’t imagine a situation where they get through a whole date without trying to kill one another. Yet, they had kissed…

A rather irritating argument begins inside of her head:

_You kissed Josie and you liked it. A lot._

_It was a one time thing._

_But you wanted more._

_No. I can’t stand her._

_You kissed Josie Saltzman and it was fucking amazing and now you—_

“Mikaelson!” Coach Lockwood yells. Hope jumps in surprise and quickly notices that everyone else has started doing laps around the field. “Two miles. Go!”

Hope falls into step with the rest of her team.

Two miles later, Hope is thoroughly warmed up and ready for the rest of practice. She’d be lying if she said that she’d completely forgotten the other team’s presence, but it’s becoming more tolerable with each passing second. The steady burn in her legs and the slight stitch in her side is a good distraction.

She takes a few long sips from her water before going to join her teammates, who are stretching languidly on the field. Naturally, the two teams have split so there’s a sizable amount of space between them, and glares are being thrown all around.

Great.

How is she ever supposed to talk to Josie with them divided like this? At this point, it would be easier to swim across the ocean than to reach her.

Still. This could be her only chance to speak with Josie.

Hope waits until everyone looks distracted then crosses the field discreetly, saddling up beside the brunette.

“Hi.” She blurts.

Josie raises her eyebrows. “Hey.”

Good. This is… good? At least Josie doesn’t seem too pissed off at her anymore.

They do a couple easy stretches in silence.

Josie bends down to touch her toes, dipping low enough that her shorts ride up an inch, mile-long legs in full view. Not that Hope looks. Nope. Not at all. She doesn’t even glance down _once_.

“I don’t understand.” Josie says, out of the blue, drawing herself up to her full height. Hope hastily forces her eyes upwards. “How did you get into our school that night?”

“How’d you get into mine?” Hope counters.

Josie tilts her head to the side and holds it there for a long moment, the line of her throat taut. “I’m not going to admit to vandalism or breaking and entering, but _hypothetically_ , if I were to do those things, I would just hop the fence. Your security is pretty lax. You might want to work on that. Now, answer my question.”

“Hypothetically, the lock on your secret gate is broken.”

“Hey!” Josie frowns. “That’s for emergency use only.”

_Such a goody two shoes._ Hope rolls her eyes so hard that they threaten to stay stuck in the back of her head. How is she ever going to convince Roman that she’s dating this girl? It’s like they have nothing in common. They could never work out. Yet, it had felt wonderful to be with Josie. To kiss her. She doesn’t think she’ll ever forget the little gasp Josie let out, the slip of tongue, her ever so soft lips…

Hope swallows.

“Mikaelson?” Josie asks.

She blinks out of her daze. “Yes?”

Embarrassment shoots up her spine once she realizes that Josie is watching her expectantly.

_Idiot_.

“Sorry, what?”

“Could you help me stretch?” Josie is suddenly standing much too close. Hope can count every eyelash she has and see the stray freckle on her jaw. It’s enough to drive a girl mad. She barely hears anything that Josie is saying. “I just need you to lift my leg so I can—“

“Sure.” Hope interrupts quickly.

Josie smiles, pleasantly surprised, and lifts her leg. Then, keeps on lifting it. And lifting it. Finally, she’s brought her leg up high enough to rest her ankle against Hope’s shoulder. Oh. Hope’s hands reflexively grip Josie’s leg to keep her steady, but her brain stops functioning completely.

Her mind blanks. “Oh… um… you’re flexible.”

What was she supposed to be asking Josie about? It was important. Wasn’t it?

“Thank you.” Josie smiles, amused.

From this close up, Hope can see a dusting of lithe muscle in Josie’s leg. She can feel it, too. Every subtle flex of her fingers seems to cause the muscle to jump ever so slightly. She barely resists the inappropriate urge to skim her fingers a bit lower, over Josie’s thigh.

Josie leans closer and sighs breathily, a sound that Hope has only ever heard in her dreams.

“Hey, that one’s mine, man!”

Hope turns her head to spot Jed and a member of Josie’s team angrily shoving and shouting at each other over two identical plastic water bottles.

Josie pulls her leg out of Hope’s grip. “Would you get your team under control?”

“ _My_ team?”

Before any further argument can ensue, Lizzie yanks Josie away, murmuring something in her sister’s ear that turns Josie a delightful shade of red. Hope is able to pick up short phrases, like _panting like a dog in heat_ and _might as well screw on the field._ Her neck prickles all over with embarrassment as she walks back to her team, wringing her hands, resolving to keep them off of Josie for the remainder of practice.

“Oh, no problem helping you stretch, Josie. Really, it was a pleasure.” Hope mutters to herself.

Mr. Saltzman has already pried Jed and the other boy apart before Hope or Josie could.

“Alright, everyone sit down!” Mr. Saltzman points at the spot in front of him. Hope waits for the nod of agreement from Coach Lockwood before doing as she’s told and reluctantly sitting down on the grass. “You all need to stop fighting. You aren’t rivals anymore. There’s no need for you all to be at each other’s throats like this, especially when we may be sharing a field for the next few days. I suggest that we do some bonding exercises—“

“Bonding exercises? We’re not kindergartners. We need to practice.” Hope interrupts. A couple people around her snicker.

Josie whips her head around. “Show some respect, he’s a teacher.”

_“Show some respect, he’s a teacher.”_

“Do you get off on annoying everyone in your presence?”

“Hmm.” Hope smirks. “How much time do you spend thinking about me getting off?”

More snickering.

Josie scoffs and turns away from her, but Hope continues to look for another second, admiring the little details about her in the sun. She thinks that she notices Josie’s skin flushing faintly.

“You know what you two?” Coach smiles unpleasantly. “Thank you for volunteering.”

Hope frowns in disbelief. “You’re not serious?”

“Serious as I’ll ever be. Both of you, stand up.”

Reluctantly, Hope and Josie get to their feet and follow Coach Lockwood’s beckoning, so they’re forced to stand in front of everyone, face to face. Josie bites her bottom lip and ducks her head in embarrassment, her cheeks coated scarlet. She looks very pretty this way.

Those disgusting Stallion uniforms aren’t so bad on Josie. They make her look a bit like a bee. A bit like sunshine, something bright and beautiful.

“Shake hands.” Coach Lockwood instructs.

Hope and Josie interlock their hands and hold on for a bit too long.

“Now, say something nice about each other.”

_“What?”_ Hope blanches.

Penelope laughs at Hope’s expense and Hope shoots her a deadly glare. She wishes she were anywhere but here. God. Why is she still holding Josie’s hand?

“You heard me. Compliment each other. You’ll never be friends if you don’t learn to respect or admire aspects of each other.” Coach sounds a bit like he’s reading from a book. “Now, go on.”

Hope stares at Josie silently.

There are a lot of things that she likes about Josie, none of which she plans to say aloud. She tries to convey her reluctance to Josie, using her eyes, and Josie seems to get the message.

After a long moment, Josie mumbles something under her breath that Hope doesn’t catch.

“What was that?” Mr. Saltzman asks.

“Oh.” Josie’s blush darkens to a violent shade of red. Hope has a new favorite color. “She has nice eyes, I guess.”

Coach nods. “Good. And you, Mikaelson?”

“I guess she has nice eyes, too.” Hope shrugs, trying not to sound as uncomfortable as she feels.

Josie glares at her. “You can’t just _steal_ my compliment. Come up with one of your own.”

“Desperate, aren’t you?” Hope’s smirk falls off of her face as Josie squeezes her hand too tightly, like she is trying to crush bones. Hope barely manages to suppress a wince. “Ow, okay. I kind of like that annoyed pout you do. It’s amusing.”

“I don’t do that.”

Hope eyes Josie’s bottom lip, which seems more pronounced than usual. She silently wonders if that’s a pout or if Josie’s lips are just naturally that full. Maybe both.

“Hate to break it to you, Saltzman. But you do.” She releases Josie’s hand. Her finger moves with a mind of its own, tapping against Josie’s lower lip.

Josie sucks in a sharp breath that seems to echo in the space between them.

Hope yanks her hand back in alarm, suddenly aware of their audience. Why had she done that? Her fingertip prickles with heat and the rest of her body isn’t doing much better, goosebumps rising all over her skin.

“Alright. Good job!” Coach seems rather pleased with himself. “Now, why don’t the rest of you try it?”

The next few minutes are spent moving in circles and mindlessly complimenting anyone she sees.

It’s not very fun.

Thankfully, they’re allowed to actually practice after that. Practice goes along normally, with them doing sprints, tossing the ball around for a while, and working on their tackling. At one point, Sebastian and Lizzie stop to enthusiastically kiss against the bleachers, but that’s not a problem Hope can solve. Besides that, there are a couple bumps in the road — usually when one team clashes with the other — but luckily those are few and far between.

“Ethan and I are gonna go grab a slice.” Maya tells her at the end of practice. “Do you want to join us?”

“No, thanks. I’m going to stretch a bit more.” She eyes Josie, who is sitting alone on the bleachers.

She waits until Maya leaves to approach her.

Hope belatedly realizes that she has no idea what to say. It’s horribly awkward. She should have come up with a plan beforehand, but she’s already caught Josie’s attention, so:

“Did you tell people that we’re dating?”

Josie looks at her like she’s crazy.

“What? No. I—“ Something seems to dawn on Josie suddenly, her eyes widening. “I wore your jacket to the party. I was talking to some blonde girl—“

“Right. Jade.”

“She must have thought the wrong thing.”

Hope takes the opportunity to sit next to her. “I need a favor.”

“What favor?”

“Well I…” Hope scratches the back of her neck uncomfortably. “I need you to go on a double date with me and, uh, act like we’ve been dating for a while… _stop laughing.”_

Josie snickers into her palm. “Mikaelson, there’s no way in hell I’m going out with you. If this is some clever ploy to get me in bed with you—“

“It’s not!” Hope interrupts, irritated. “If you hadn’t opened up your big mouth at the party, I wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“That’s not my problem. You can’t force me to go.”

Hope knows she can’t force her. What does Josie think of her? She would never force Josie to do anything, she just wants help.

Josie stands up, gym bag in hand, and leaves Hope alone. Again.

Hope yells after her. “What, so that’s what you do? You create problems for other people and then leave them to deal with the consequences?”

Josie flips her off.

Great. Just fucking great.

In her anger, Hope kicks a stray football with all of her might and sends it flying high into the air. It soars across the field and hits a small boy in the chest, knocking him over. Shit.

Hope rushes over there.

“Are you okay?” She hoists him to his feet. She had forgotten that the Salvatore School is not only a high school, but an elementary and middle school, too.

The boy looks no older than ten. His features are small and childish, and thankfully, unbruised.

“I’m okay.” He blinks. He might be a little dizzy, but seems to be unharmed. Hope lets out a sigh of relief. He looks up at her in amazement. “Hey! You’re one of the football players.”

“Yes?”

His eyes are wide and glassy. “You’re _cool.”_

***

From then on, Hope makes it a point to carve out some time each practice to see Pedro. She sits beside him on the bleachers during her water break, alternating between yelling orders at the team, sketching any bugs that Pedro can find crawling through the mud (he starts to bring her paper and crayons), and listening to him babble. She likes the kid, but she also admittedly has her own selfish reasons for talking to him, too. He seems to have a little crush on Josie and, as a result, is prone to dropping random nuggets of information about her during his daily rambling.

_“Josie’s favorite color is yellow — but bright, bright yellow. It kind of hurts your eyes.”_

_“Josie always helps my class with the plants, even though she’s older. She gives them funny names, like George or Malivore.”_

_“Josie’s so pretty, she looks like a princess!”_

(Hope agrees with him on that last one.)

It’s taking longer than they thought to clean up all the honey. Either that or Coach likes having free access to the Salvatore School’s much cleaner and more efficient facilities.

If she’s honest Hope isn’t exactly mad about it. It’s not too bad here. The view is certainly nicer…

Josie jogs past them and Pedro sits up, waving.

Hope stares at the ground.

“You should draw her.” Pedro suggests, once Josie is gone. “Then, I could give the drawing to her and it would make her happy.”

“Why don’t you draw her yourself?” Hope is pretty sure that Josie would appreciate a drawing from a cute kid rather than her.

“Because you’re better at it than me.”

Hope stammers as Pedro starts to go hunting for something in his bag — crayons, she presumes.

“Here! Brown for her eyes.” He empties a whole pack of colored pencils and crayons into her lap. She nearly drops seven of them, but ends up gripping a dark brown one, as instructed.

Hope would say no, but his eyes are huge and pleading. She’s not heartless.

“Fine.” She mumbles and gets to work.


End file.
